


The Labyrinth

by Phoenexus



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Blood and Violence, M/M, Pan's Labyrinth - Freeform, Prince Sean, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-11-03 13:45:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 64,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10968459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoenexus/pseuds/Phoenexus
Summary: As a result of a series of events unnamed and unknown, the Labyrinth, a dark kingdom full of mythical, frightening and incredible creatures has sprung up. And for some reason, Prince Jack is drawn to the place. He can't bring himself to enter it though.That is until one incident pushes him to the brink and he finds himself thrust into this new and dangerous world.And then there's Mark…On HIATUS again :((editing has begun, but it is a very slow progress)





	1. Night Wanderings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I just decided to repost this. I kinda like the idea of just having it in a chapter book…i don't know. I think it might be neater and yeah it means I'll loose a lot of kudos and stuff…but I prefer it this way…so sorry for the complete change and uhhhhh this might be a bad decision. Let's see!
> 
> Edit: Also, earlier I had put a tag as this being medieval. Well, I don't like medieval fashion I've decided. So FUCK that TAG, am I right? Yeah, they're clothing is kinda a muted version of today's clothing, so without patterns or bright colors. That means, a lot of collars, a lot of browns, tans, beiges, maybe some dark blues and maroons, but mostly dull colors. The only people wearing brighter colors, like purples and maybe brighter reds, are the royalty and only when they are out in public. Hopefully that makes the fashion easier to understand.

A drop of water splashes on his nose softly. He scrunches his eyes closed in irritation and wiggles his nose uncomfortably.

Realization washes over him with the chilling breeze and he stumbles backwards. His eyes flash open with a shudder and his heel makes contact with a stray root.

Jack falls to the mud. He’s soaking wet and now completely covered in mud. He groans and begins to stand to his feet.

He smooths out his white nightshirt, trying to get the dirt off with each motion. It’s slick and remains in place. Jack sighs, giving up as he folds his arms against his chest loosely in irritation.

He looks around.

It’s the middle of the night and here he is outside in the pouring rain. There is only an orange gaslamp protecting him from the dark green and black hues of a moonless night like this one.

Jack shivers and folds his arms tighter against his chest, trying to warm himself in anyway possible. He sneezes and clamps and a hand over his mouth in a flash. His heart is pounding intensely in his chest, anticipating some hooded figure to jump out of the shadows with a knife.

When nothing bursts out, Jack lets his shoulders drop back down. He lets out a shallow breath of relief and walks over to stand directly under the lamp. His back hits the pole and he slides down so that he’s squatting barely above the ground. There, he puts his face and his knees and tears trickle down his face.

He knows exactly where he is. This had happened several times before.

It was always on the darkest, stormiest nights that Jack would find himself in front of the Labyrinth. Jack would sleep walk from his chambers and make his way to the Labyrinth’s entrance at the back of his family’s castle. He would then stand there until he woke up with a start. It had grown irritating, especially now that it was the rainy season.

But tonight it just terrified him.

No matter how hard he tried, Jack couldn’t stop himself from finding this location. So, how long would this continue happening?

He had tied himself to his bed. He had guards watch him while he slept. He even locked himself in a cell one night. Without the moon, Jack would rise each night. His legs would carry him to this familiar location. No matter what he did, he always found himself facing the Labyrinth.

Jack had tried **everything** he could think of.

Still he’s here tonight.

He rises from his sitting position, but continues to lean against the lamp. He turns to face the Labyrinth with his head and a glare follows on his face. Daring do to so, he steps away from the lamp and puffs out his chest towards the Labyrinth. It doesn’t answer back with any sort of aggression, as if watching what Jack was going to do.

“What do you want?” He dares to say in a low whisper, careful not to alert anyone who may be wandering close to the castle this late at night. “What the fuck do you want?” His voice is a hiss almost drowned out by the rain still coming down.

The maze doesn’t answer. All it did was rustle its leaves, as if it found Jack’s sudden burst of defiance amusing.

Jack feels his core breaking as he continues to look down the dark path and into the Labyrinth. The area where he can’t see the end is inviting with it’s unknown bends and possible adventure. Jack feels the urge to step through.

He almost does, until his foot cracks onto a twig. With a small gasp escaping his lips, Jack jumps back.

He was right on the threshold, about to enter the abyss.

“Not today,” He whispers under his breath to no one in particular.

He turns on his heel and quickly walks away from the Labyrinth. He wants to get back inside as soon as possible. He sneezes again.

The walk back to the castle is scary in the almost pitch darkness surrounding him. There are a few lamps, but even next to one Jack feels his chest tighten in anxiety.

These weak lamps don’t allow him to see much of what’s beyond. Also, they expose him to what could be lurking out there. Jack pulls up the collar of his soaking nightshirt and holds his hands fearfully against his chest as he continues to walk back to safety.

Though Jack knows his kingdom is safe, being a prince makes being outside alone frightening.

He could be kidnapped by men at his back, just waiting to pounce. He could almost feel a hand pulling him back, a knife at his throat, the sickly smell of chlorophyll.

He could be held for ransom so that his family as to pay a large sum. Then once the money has been paid, his neck could miraculously snap so that his family is sent the body of their beloved, very dead son.

Or another kingdom could pay to have him delivered to their doorstep. Once in their grubby paws, he could be used as a bargaining chip.  
He could be sold off as a slave on the black market. He could be tortured, punished, abused and raped out there in the dirty streets where the authorities were corrupted and criminals were the true kings.

He could be assassinated out here and swept under a rug, never to be heard of again. His alarmed cries as the knife would slide across his throat or as a sword is thrust into his heart would fall on deaf ears as the castle snored.

Any of these could happen if he isn’t careful. Jack’s pace becomes more urgent.

That’s why this sleep wandering has to stop. It is getting ridiculous and dangerous.

Jack would’ve told his parents when it first began, but at the time he didn’t want to disturb them with petty problems.

It hadn’t been an urgent problem. After all, he couldn’t even bring himself to enter the Labyrinth. If he never entered the Labyrinth, the wanderings wouldn’t ever lead to anything bad necessarily.

Considering the fact that he is still alive and breathing, these wanderings aren’t a big deal still. Jack’s alive, that’s what matters. He wasn’t lost in the twists and turns that would claim him as their own.

Jack almost did enter the Labyrinth.

Jack really had been a troublemaker when he was a child, even more so than he is now. Always running away and climbing trees, scraping his knees in an un-princely like manner.

He made faces at the guards, teased his siblings in the courtroom and sang everywhere he went in an obnoxious, loud and off-key voice. No matter how much his parents or governess told him off, Jack simply smiled away their concerns and promised to be the perfect angel he appeared to be.

The next day he’d have found the paint in a supply closet and be painting the walls. Or he’d be on the roof having a picnic with his stuffed bear, Sam. Or he’d be sliding down the banister like a slide or bringing out a sled for winter and riding down the stairs.

He’d laugh and then apologize again for not following the rules. The cycle would repeat.

He drove his parents mad and the staff had it even worse.

This one particular day, Jack had wandered into a part of the garden he had never seen before in a game of hide ‘n seek with his governess.

Usually, he was kept closer to the castle, mostly inside since he got lost easily. He was tiny and it was hard for the governess to find him on most occasions.

He’d always be nearby, his hand clamped over his mouth while the governess lost her shit, throwing pillows and objects everywhere in a panicked rush. He’d love to see her usually stern and commanding face fixed into true terror. He also picked up several swear words and creative curses that tumbled out of her lips.

In this game, lil’ Jack had found himself breathlessly reaching the end of the white rose bushes in this unfamiliar part of the garden. He had run his fingers along the bushes.

Though he was around 8, he had forgotten the sting of thorns. He had cried out in alarm and drawn his hand away quickly. Then put his finger into his mouth to stop the bleeding. After a moment of pain, he continued forward.

He continued walking forwards though as something new and large caught his attention.

The Labyrinth was far larger than he was and towered over intimidatingly. Jack let his finger fall out and a drop of his blood fell to the grass.

He stepped forwards with interest. His eyes were wide, soaking in every detail he could see.

He almost entered the area too and another drop of blood fell, this time inside the Labyrinth as Jack reached his hand out into the shadowy pathways. The darkness beckoned him forwards, pulling him into its grasp.

There his mother had been in a flash. She grabbed him, scooping him up in her arms. Jack, who had never been this close to his distant mother, was in shock and stared up at her in wonder. The Labyrinth had been forgotten in that moment.

“Séan!” She used his real name with a disapproving tone. “What are you doing away from Nana?” Jack pouted, his awe melting away.

“Hide ‘n seek,” He insisted. His mother raised an eyebrow and Jack giggled at her expression.

“Well I think that this is an inside game only,” the queen reminded Jack who only sighed dramatically and gave her a look, trying to match her raised eyebrow. It was his mother’s turn to laugh. They began to head back to the castle.

Jack caught one last glance at the Labyrinth, but turned away as he heard the distressed gasp of Nana.

He wriggled out of his mother’s arms and ran to the out of breath Nana who had finally made her way outside. She looked stressed. As she saw the queen, she nervously laughed.

“He’s impossible to handle sometimes, your majesty,” She explained and then quickly added. “But that’s a’right! I’ll keep a better eye on him miss.” The queen just nodded. She watched as Nana grabbed one of Jack’s small hands and lead him back inside patiently.

Jack noticed his mother’s pained expression directed towards the Labyrinth when he looked back. Before he could ask her what was wrong, Nana yanked his arm forwards.

“Don’t dawdle Jack,” Nana told him. Jack walked a little faster.

That night when his mother tucked him into bed, strange. Jack was thrilled that she had decided to pay him extra attention that day and she even read him a short story. It was all so exciting and Jack felt special. Being the youngest of five often left him forgotten.

He snuggled up against his mother’s arms as his eyes began to close. She looked down on him and gave him a small kiss on her forehead.

Suddenly though, she was beginning to sit up and Jack rose with her. His mother’s expression had changed.

“Séan,” She told him. “Never go back there again.”

“Where mother?” Jack only blinked up at her.

“The Labyrinth,” She responded with a serious edge to her voice. “Please, darling, never go into the Labyrinth.” With that she stood up from the bed. As she began to walk away, but Jack caught her arm.

“But why?” Jack’s voice was curious, innocent and large in wonder. His mother melted and bit her lip.

“I,” She began and then stood there in thought. “I’ll tell you when you are older. Goodnight darling.” With that, his mother blew out the candle light and left the room.

Jack’s older now, but there still is no explanation as to why he can’t enter the Labyrinth. He’s sure that the queen has forgotten about her warning by now. Jack doesn’t know what’s wrong with the Labyrinth or why they even have it in the first place.

His terror is washed over by an anger now as Jack dodges a plant he hadn’t seen in his path. He glares up at the cloud covered sky, as if he wants to fight someone above him. All he is met with is the rain, still pounding down into the ground and on the lost prince.

With each drop, he lets the water erase his furrowed eyebrows and scrunched up nose. He closes his eyes peacefully.

Maybe once Jack is given more responsibility as he grows older or when his parents get back, he’ll escape the pull the Labyrinth has on him. That’s a nice thought.

But he also is reminded as he begins to reach the front door that despite all of his siblings, the Labyrinth only calls to him. He’s the only one who finds himself facing the Labyrinth on the darkest of nights.

Jack opens the back door of the castle, pushing the thoughts from his head.

He’s standing in the doorway of the servant’s entrance and there’s a good chance he could run into someone on his way back. It’s one thing to explain why he was out in the middle of the night. To also explain why he’s sopping wet and completely muddy is too much to handle at the moment.

Jack just wants to crawl into bed and fall into a peaceful and long, uninterrupted sleep. Is that too much to ask for?

He goes to remove his shoes from his feet, but realizes that he’s barefoot. He opens his mouth to groan before remembering he was supposed to be quiet.

He’s wet and cold, there’s no doubt in his mind that he’ll be sick tomorrow. Great.

Jack hates how everyone would always fuss over him when he gets sick.

Servants would constantly be in his room, checking up on him, bringing him soup, bringing him warm, wet towels, piling up blankets on top of him that rose a mile-high or taking those blankets away, fluffing and re-fluffing his pillows and so much more. Each time they’d turn to leave they’d ask him if he felt any better. It was exhausting to be sick, but all of that worrying and caretaking made it life draining.

After a few days, even if he wasn’t any better, he’d suck it up and pretend he was one hundred percent. Usually, this worked and the servants went back to their real jobs.

Thankfully, it’s a rarity that he ever got sick. However, whenever it occurred, he finds himself loathing his status.

Jack likes being a prince at the end of the day. It’s easier and more comfortable than peasant life.

He likes helping other people through whatever he and his family could do. He also finds himself daunted by the responsibility. There are times when that stress is too much.

When anxiety builds up, Jack finds himself wishing he could disappear into the shadows. Maybe there he could find complete peace and serenity. He could get away from problems that followed him to his room and kept him up at night.

The darkness would engulf him and he would finally surrender to the nothingness. The Labyrinth would have him in its grasp finally.

Jack shivers in his warmer surroundings, whether from those darker thoughts or from the castle’s temperature.

Despite the castle being stone and trapping heat inside as best as it could, it’s still rather cold.

Jack tiptoes from the kitchen and into the great hallway. Tapestries are hung across the walls telling of great myths of the past. He can’t see them in the darkness right now, but he knew they were there as dark shades moved in the moonlight streaming from the large windows.

That’s the source of the chill! Jack goes to close one of the windows.

“What are you doing!”

Jack jumps at the sound of someone else and almost screams. He clamps a hand over his mouth and meets the eyes of Ethan.

 

“You fucking scared me,” He hisses. Ethan smirks and reaches over to close the window fully. Jack’s heart is still beating fast.

Ethan is one of the only servants who treats Jack like a real person.

Ethan’s young, slightly younger than Jack by a few years or so. He’s still a kid and doesn’t always know the proper ways to treat royalty, but this hardly bothers Jack. It’s nice to have a friend in the castle around his age to joke around with when everyone else is stiff and stern.

The two begin to walk back to Jack’s chambers.

“What are you doing anyway?” Jack wonders aloud. “Why are you up in the middle of the night?” Ethan scoffs and shoves his hands under his armpits.

“I could ask you the same question my unsuspicious prince,” Ethan jokes and gives Jack a hard look. Jack looks away in embarrassment.

“Nah, I’m just kiddin’,” Ethan looks away with a grin. “I couldn’t sleep. And then I just decided to open all the windows and close ‘em. Repeat until I get too tired.” He pauses with a sigh.

“I do that sometimes when I can’t sleep or to distract myself from work. It helps me concentrate and helps me sleep when I can’t.”

“Whatever works,” Jack nods. He can’t really judge. After all, that’s normal compared to the night wanders Jack goes on every week.

The two walk in silence for a bit down the grand hall. Every time they spot an open window, they rush to see who can close it first.

If it had been morning, they would’ve been shouting and laughing obnoxiously until someone came to drag Jack away to his duties. Now, they did it as quietly as they could with lots of flipping the other person off, sticking tongues out at each other and other childish hand motions and faces.

Finally, the last window is closed and they’re nearing Jack’s chambers, but they still have a little to go.

Ethan decides to bring up the question that hadn’t been unspoken.

“What happened to you?” Ethan questions it as he motions to Jack’s soaking outfit.

Jack raises his arms in the air with a shrug and slaps them down at his side, making a squishing noise. Ethan stifles a giggle with a hand over his mouth.

“Wanted to go on a midnight stroll,” Jack lies. Ethan removes his hand and shakes his head.

“No,” Ethan responds, his smile falling. “Earlier I saw you walk out, slowly. I called out your name, even went over to you to get your attention. You didn’t respond or even flinch when I tried to pull your sleeve. I even stepped in front of you to stop you. You just, walked around me. I began to pull you back, but you just kept walking.”

Ethan actually looks concerned with his furrowed eyebrows and small, rounded face. He looks younger than Jack by far. A little kid in the bluish moonlight trying to get answers.

Jack’s expression falters as well. He struggles to find the correct words.

He could say the truth.

That he’s been having these night wanderings ever since he reached the age of sixteen. He would say that this was the third time this month it had happened and it would happen again if the nights were dark and dangerous like tonight.

He could explain that he would always wander in the rain to the opening in the labyrinth. He would listen to his mother and his better judgment and never dare to enter.

Of course, there is a part of him that wants to explore. That wants to find out what was tugging at his soul in there. What wants him to enter so desperately. What in the darkness wants him?

This is all on the tip of Jack’s tongue. The silence kills him though and he swallows the truth and gives Ethan a relaxing smile.

“I was having trouble sleeping and wanted to go out-”

“Bullshit,” Ethan burst out and then clamps a hand over his mouth in alarm. Jack, however, was unfazed.

“Sorry your highness,” Ethan squeaks from behind his hand and pulls it away. He nervously holds his hands behind his back and rocks on his heels.  
“If you don’t mind me saying,” Ethan corrects himself. “That story sounds ridiculous. Why would you wander out into the greatest fuckin’ storm of the month? Also, why would you be covered in mud?” Ethan motions to Jack’s slick, dirty shirt.

Jack sighs deeply. No point in hiding the truth now.

“Okay fine,” Jack gives up. “That was a lie, you’re right to call out my bullshit Ethan.” Ethan smiles, thankful that he was right and that Jack wasn’t mad at him for being so casual.

Jack can’t really think where to start as he looks over to Ethan. The kid looks interested with his large blue eyes and attentive gaze.

To be honest, it makes Jack even more nervous. He runs a hand through his brown hair and exhales a short breath.

“So…” Jack stalls. He closes his mouth with a furrowed brow, unsure where to start. He opens once more and shakes his head. Ethan’s gaze falters, but quickly returns to being fascinated out of respect for the prince in front of him. Jack waves him off.

“Sorry,” Jack is the one to apologize before Ethan can do so. “I don’t know how to begin. It started so long ago…”

He pauses for a moment, his eyes staring off into space. It had been so long.

“I guess I’ll begin by saying that I’ve always had those little night adventures ever since I turned…I dunno…maybe it was like 16? So basically five years ago.” He swallows.

“I always, on stormy or moonless, starless nights, find myself wandering close to the Labyrinth out there.”

Jack pauses to look at Ethan’s reaction. His mouth is opened slightly and he wears a furrowed brow and his head is cocked slightly, but he’s still listening.

Ethan thankfully hasn’t called him out on anything yet, or asked why this was all happening. Jack wouldn’t know how to react to that.

“I’ve never gone in though, which is one of the weirdest parts,” He continues, running his hand through his hair again. He begins staring at the ground.

“Like you’d think that unconsciously I’d just keep walking, but no.” He pauses. “I always just stop at the entrance and I’ll wake up just standing there in front of this gaping black hole. It’s fucking terrifying.”

Ethan remains interested. He even dares to place a hand on Jack’s shoulder to comfort. Jack appreciates the gesture and says nothing.

He knows that if Ethan tried to contact him like this in public, the queen and king would have a fit. Alone though in the middle of the night was a different story. Especially when Jack realizes that his cheeks feel wet and not just from the rain.

He reaches a hand up to his cheek and feels the few tears that dot his cheek. He didn’t realize that he was breathing that hard either. He was even shaking slightly.

Did the Labyrinth, the one looming outside the window to his right, really scare him that much?

Embarrassed, by his crying, Jack turns his face away as it grows hot. Ethan doesn’t remove his hand though, just breathes in sharply. He seems tense, worried.

“But basically,” Jack breaths out. He rubs his eye as he turns back to face Ethan with a weak smile. “That’s what I did tonight. What about you?”

Jack already knows the answer, but he just wants to drop the conversation entirely. He’s exhausted from being pulled by his emotions that are a jumbled mess of fear and awkwardness.

“Jack,” Ethan pulls back the topic to the Labyrinth. “Is there something I can do to help?” Jack notices how scared he looks.

Jack clicks his tongue as he pulls Ethan closer into a side hug, resting an arm over his shoulders. Ethan yelps a little with surprise.

The two walk close together down the hallway, linked by Jack’s arm.

“Tell you what,” Jack says as he gazes above at the ceiling to try to appear like he’s in deep thought. “How ‘bout you lock me inside once I go into my bedroom? Maybe that’ll prevent me from wandering again.” He looks into Ethan’s face and is greeted by a cheery smile.

“Sounds good to me!” he sure is more chipper when he thinks he’s being useful. “I’ll do that every night, just in case.” He winks at Jack.

Jack is sure this won’t work, but he doesn’t let Ethan know.

They continue to walk in silence as the rain still crashes to the ground and onto the window panes.

Jack is thankful that he’s on the inside closer to the wall for the thought of being outside or near the outside causes himself to shudder. He tries not to alert Ethan of these nervous thoughts, a difficult task, but something that Jack does none-of-the-less.

When Jack’s door comes into view on their left, Ethan leaps from under Jack’s arm. He rushes to open the door for the prince, who looks at him with sideways smile.

“Thanks buddy,” Jack says as he ruffles Ethan’s hair before going in. “But ya do know that you don’t have to do that? I can open doors ya know.”

“I’m just trying to do my job,” Ethan shrugs and flashes him a large, goofy smile.

“Alright-y,” Jack rolls his. “I’ll go get the key for you.” He goes into his chambers, leaving Ethan at the door.

Though Jack wishes that Ethan would just follow him, he knows that Ethan won’t overstep that boundary. No matter how lonely Jack is, he knows that it’s best not to push too far over the limits to Ethan’s duties.

So here Jack wanders into the living-room-esc part of his chamber. He can’t remember where he had put the key not too long ago.

He remembers the frustration when he once again awoke in front of the Labyrinth. He recalled the storming back to his room. He had made sure not to slam the door, but when he found the key to his chambers in a soft blue, untouched cloth, he had thrown it somewhere around here in frustration.

He had never picked it up, as far as he knew.

Jack flops to the ground on his stomach and begins to crawl around, scouring the floor for anything that glints in the soft glow from the low-lit lamps. There can’t see anything of interest with each new step, only dust that needs to be cleaned.

In defeat, Jack rises to his feet and gazes up in annoyance towards one of the walls.

His eyes catch a glimpse and there on the top shelf above a cabinet where a clock sat, was his key. Jack walks forwards and grabs at it. It’s cool to the touch.

Jack’s eyes flick down towards the clock and he sucks in a breath with surprise and weariness. The clock reads 3:33 am; the Witching Hour was upon them.

Jack feels his room go cold at the mere thought of dark magic that might be lurking in the obscure shadows.

With each walk to the door, Jack feels the shadows lightening and growing softer against the light.

When he hands the key to Ethan, who promises to take good care of it for the rest of the night, he feels security disappear from the room. Strange.

This was supposed to make Jack feel safer since he can’t get out now and go on another night wander.

Ethan locks the door with a soft thud and Jack is left alone.

The shadows are suffocating when Jack blows out the candle and races to bed.

Even under the sheets, Jack feels naked and exposed. He feels as if the darkness can gaze into him and take him if it wishes.

Jack shivers with discomfort and tosses and turns under the covers, trying to shake it off.

He’s only in his room, a room that is locked with a key that is secure and in competent hands. He trusts Ethan.

Still, there’s that lingering feeling as Jack stares into the blackness around him that someone is there. Someone is watching eagerly from the shadows and biding their time.

He can imagine a chilling, pearly smile in the room. There are dark eyes, dark hair and the darkest of intentions from the person from the dark. Jack can almost feel this something, this someone, trying to claw at him and make him surrender to the blackness. To make Jack surrender to him.

Jack refuses with his eyes squeezed shut and his whole body curled into a small, defensive ball.

When he finally begins to drift off, he can almost hear a whisper of a voice in his room. Low, dark and enticing. In an odd way, the voice is a distant comfort. A feeling of familiarity.

The darkness is there to watch over Jack with its white smile fixed in a grin.

-◇-◈-◇-

The rest of the week is simple and dull.

Usually Jack found these types of weeks boring. However, due to the stress of the week before, he finds comfort in the dreariness of the castle.

Alone at the moment, he finds himself in the library leafing through book after book. He’s trying to find one that truly captured his interest, but so far nothing caught his attention or kept it for too long.

At these times, Jack would go bother his brothers and sisters, but they were long gone by now.

It was just this morning that Jack was waving goodbye to his parents and eldest brother who were heading on a trip of some sort. Maybe it had to do with a royal agreement, an arranged marriage or some treaties that needed to be made; Jack didn’t really know nor did he really care.

The rest of his siblings were out and about trying to make a difference in the world or being educated on how the kingdom functioned. Other uninteresting things.

Though the library is equally as tedious as his siblings’ travels and the rain still pours outside, Jack is content.

He’s currently lying on a comfortable couch the wrong way, his head hanging off the seat and gravity pulling his hair towards the ground. He giggles while he scans the first page of the large book in his hand. When he finishes the first sentence, he chucks it into the pile of rejected books. He sits back up.

His mind wanders back to his siblings. They hadn’t properly spent time with him in several months now. They all had tasks to complete. Jack should’ve too, but his parents don’t trust him too much and he is currently behind on his studies. A royal advisor is currently taking care of the castle at the moment.

Being the youngest allowed Jack more free time than he should’ve been given.

He had wreaked havoc in the castle as a kid. He explored every nook, every cranny there was to see. He even had been down to the dungeons, though his father had caught him and gave him a good scolding.

Now, Jack still wreaks some havoc and still hides away in every corner of the castle. Except now, he’s much more tame.

For example, right now he’s supposed to be learning about how to tell direction by the stars and survival in the wilderness. Instead, here he is in one of the many libraries picking through books.

Jack, now off the couch, finds his feet guiding him away down the book aisles. His eyes glance through the titles, finally landing on one and sighing as he picks it from the shelf.

“Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland” rests in his hands.

He grins down at it. After he had tried to escape into the Labyrinth, his mother had decided to spend some more time with him each night. She’d tuck him into bed and then read a chapter every night.

It was the same copy too. Despite all the years, it still smelled like dirt and the pages were stained with mud from when he had dropped it outside.

He flipped to a random page and began to read:

 

_A large rose-tree stood near the entrance of the garden: the roses growing on it were white, but there were three gardeners at it, busily painting them red._

 

Jack smirks.

The scene with the Queen of Hearts always scared him as a kid. The idea of getting your head cut off in that mad universe by this clearly insane lady mad with power was terrifying to the young prince.

He had asked his mother if she ever cut off someone’s head. His mother had only laughed and said no. If she were going to though, she’d have a good reason to.

That had relaxed Jack, but not enough to stop him from insisting that she promised never to cut off anyone’s head. She had sworn with a smile on her face and then kissed Jack goodnight.

Jack places the book back in its place and he is off out of the library.

The rain had begun to decrease so that the last moments of sunlight before dusk were golden coated. The hallways and Jack himself are soaked in a cheery yellow hue. He grin as he travels around, letting his feet lead him aimlessly.

He turns down a flight of stairs, addressing the servants, knights or advisors he occasionally sees with a respectful nod. Most don’t say anything to him, only offer a polite nod of acknowledgment or a greeting of “good afternoon”.

He doesn’t mind the lack of conversation. In fact, when he finds himself turning down a cramped hallway, he’s glad no one comes to him to start an unwanted conversation with him.

He’s outside now as he pushes a door open and his footsteps know the way all too well.

Everything is dew covered and Jack’s shoes are getting wet despite trying to stay on the small stone path. He doesn’t really care that much though as his eyes remain on the horizon and his mind is clear and hopeful.

When he finally stops, he finds himself staring into the Labyrinth once more.

The only difference between his last wandering out here is that this time it’s morning.

It’s fucking morning.

Why the fuck is he here **now** of all times?

The anger doesn’t build in him though because, in a way, he wants to be out here. He wants to face his fear in the broad daylight, where he feels protected from the night.

Jack dares to take one more step towards it and leans against the lamp.

With his hands in the pockets of his casual trousers, Jack stares ahead.

Even in the sunlight, the walls are dark and cast shadows on the path inside. No matter how hard Jack squints, he can’t see more than maybe 10 yards or so into the Labyrinth before the shadows take it over completely. It remains shrouded in mystery.

Curiosity is bubbling up despite Jack’s common sense.

The Labyrinth is an oddity in his kingdom. Though it hasn’t been here long, it’s unclear who had built it. It just appeared one day and rested there in the background as the new found shadow to the castle. In a way, it seems to also be ruling the kingdom as it stands proudly behind the castle and stretches for what seems like miles.

Jack wonders what lies inside. Was it a simple maze or was it something more, like a whole other world. What watched him from those shadows?

When Jack looks down at the stone path, wondering if he would wander back, he catches a glimpse of a spot of blood.

Instead of being alarmed, he just sighs and looks up at the sky. Surely the rain should’ve washed it away. But there the spot of suspicion sat, looking up at Jack and reminding him of the sacrifice.

Despite not being allowed to go in, this generation of his family had taken particular notice of the Labyrinth. A new tradition had sparked up when his father had taken the throne to sacrifice to the Labyrinth in hopes of a good month.

Why is started, Jack only heard snippets from his siblings. A terrible sickness and famine had taken over the country-side of his kingdom and threatened to tear it apart a year or so before Jack was born. His father, though not typically superstitious had turned to sacrifices in order to put a stop to this. Apparently it had worked, so it stuck.

So each month, the family trekked down together with a prized lamb or pig or other piece of livestock to offer whatever was inside.

Not only was it to prevent plague or famine, but also to stop whatever might be in there from escaping.

The sun is now falling the sky quickly and the shadows begin to grow. Jack hugs his arms close to his chest with the chill in the air and drags himself away from the Labyrinth.

He feels a tug at his heart, trying to convince him to stay. Nevertheless, Jack’s desire to get as far away as possible before the night took over is too strong.

Jack’s pace is urgent, as if he’s running from a creature but not trying to draw too much attention to himself. His face is drawn into a straight, determined line and he slips into the secret hallway he exited through. He doesn’t look back.

-◇-◈-◇-

Jack wakes up in a cold sweat.

Something was _off_.

He doesn’t know right away. He climbs out of bed and slips into some pants better suited for the public and shoes.

Almost on cue, he hears thundering around the castle.

Not the type of thunder from the sky, but thundering voices and the stomping of feet.

Some mass is shouting.

Jack freezes for a moment, but wills himself to peer carefully out of the bedroom.

There is no one in his chambers.

Yet.

As he creeps towards the door, careful to not let the floor creak below his feet, he can hear the voices grow louder. The locked door would keep Jack inside and hopefully keep the other people at bay.

As Jack is thinking this, the door is ajar. The door. Is ajar. Jack’s stomach flip flops.

Then Ethan slips through carefully. He looks out of breath with widened eyes and heavy breathing. There is a fresh scar underneath his left eye and it is bleeding in a small trickle down his face.

Though Jack isn’t really supposed to, he pulls the younger guy into a hug. It’s tight and comforting as if he hadn’t seen another person in years. Ethan is stunned by the Jack’s hugs again.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Jack asks in a whisper, holding Ethan close to him.

He has always seen Ethan as the younger brother he had never had, despite Ethan not being of a princely stature. Seeing him injured in anyway distresses Jack.

Ethan pulls away with a squirm and Jack lets go. Ethan brushes his shirt down and stares into Jack’s eyes with intensity lining his usually energetic blue irises.

“Someone’s in the castle,” Ethan whispers hastily, eyeing the door as he says it. He grabs Jack’s hand with a tight squeeze. “We need ta get you outta here.”

“It sounds like more than jus-” Jack begins to say, but is cut short by a sharp tug forwards. Ethan is pulling him through the door and dashing down the hallways with Jack in tow. The two take several turns and race down hallways, trying to avoid the growing noise.

The hallways are full of twists, a maze in itself. Jack hopes that they would confuse the angry mob that grew closer with every moment passing.

The voices were angry, loud and full of hatred. They scream for revolution, for the head of the king that isn’t here now. The only royalty here is a lowly prince, the youngest of five and the least important one. But he would quench their thirst for now and wouldn’t hesitate to kill him if they saw him.

Jack runs a little faster.

There are also screams of pain being covered by the laughing and malicious shouting around Jack. He knows these are the servants whose lives are being torn away.

“Keep running?” Ethan calls to Jack in a loud whisper as Jack becomes lost in thought. He nods to his servant, though Ethan is looking ahead and leading the way. Jack continues to run, following diligently.

They round corners and edge down stairs, heading into the very back of the castle where the servants own the hallways. Jack is unfamiliar with this area, though he has explored it once or twice. Despite that, he tries his best to remain calm and follow Ethan as fast as he can.

Jack trips.

“Shit!” Jack shouts loudly, forgetting the reason they are currently in the hidden servant’s passages. Ethan shoots a look back at him, wide eyed and fearful.

The shouting outside dies for a moment. It seems as if the crowd is holding its breath, waiting for another hint of the youngest prince’s presence.

Jack keeps a hand over his mouth as Ethan and him scramble to keep moving.

The mob eventually grows loud again, too loud for comfort as they begin to track where the shout of surprise had come for. Jack’s pace quickens ever so slightly.

The darkness of the tight corridors of the passages lead into the dim, but lit servant’s kitchen.

It was quaint, homely and liveable, Jack decides as he hops from the cabinet that the exit of the corridor is located in. Ethan goes to move the crates and jars of preserved food back into place.

There is a more public entrance to this area, a large wooden door that lead down an easy to access hallway, that no doubt was covered in passionately angered people out for blood. Jack notices on that hanging on the door is a chalkboard highlighting tomorrow’s meals and who was in charge of making them. It’s unnecessary now.

The room was nice though, Jack agreed with his earlier statement. He’d been in here before, once or twice to hide as a kid or to grab a snack. He remembered the happy chefs that would give him a taste of the food, of the cookies that he’d steal and of the one time he was punished to clean all of the dinner plates when he stole the cookies.

When it was morning, light would stream through to highlight the the cabinets of food and the flowers sitting on the stone fireplace. It would be quiet for a moment in the light and then the first people would roll in and the day would begin with the pounding of fresh dough and the murmurs of gossip and light-hearted laughter.

But it’s night now and the room is too quiet for comfort. There is no hustle and bustle, no silly gossip floating around and certainly no people to be seen.

Ethan moves about the place as if he knows it like the back of his hand while Jack bumps into corners of tables and chairs scattered about the room in a messy fashion. Whoever had been in her moments before had forgotten to turn off the light and organize the room.

Jack hopes that whoever that was had gotten out okay. He hopes the person didn’t meet the same feat as the chicken on the counter.

Someone had been preparing something to eat for tomorrow or a midnight snack. The dead carcass of the chicken sitting on the chopping block still had some blood trickling from it. It’s head lay to the side with dead, ever-staring eyes.

Unsettled, but determined to keep going, Jack tears his eyes to Ethan. He is pointing to a trap door near him, hidden by a large and boxy pot with a plant resting inside.

The plant looks to be dying. Jack swallows and hopes he won’t meet the same fate.

“Go through this,” Ethan orders. “I’ll follow behind.” Jack nods, not liking being told what to do, but not willing to argue at the moment.

Jack gets onto his knees and begins to crawl through the tiny space. It’s claustrophobia described in a single location and he feels his throat tighten in a new layer of sharp fear being added to his original anxiety. He looks back at Ethan for some sort of comfort.

Ethan isn’t looking back. Instead, he is looking towards the main door, listening.

“Come on!” Jack urges. He doesn’t want to be alone in here, nor does he want Ethan to be left behind.

Ethan turns. He blinks down at Jack and offers him a grim smile.

“Someone has to be the distraction,” Ethan explains. Before Jack can object, the hidden door is closed and darkness engulfs Jack.

He can hear the pot scrape against the wall, so that Jack’s trapped. The only exit is forward and down an unfamiliar path. Jack can hear the shouting and violence growing louder outside and the thud of Ethan’s shoes running from the kitchen.

For Ethan’s sacrifice, Jack begins to move forwards, apprehensively.

The darkness is suffocating. His fears grow and grow as more time passes while he stays on his hands and knees, crawling in the blackness covering him in a blanket. The ground is cold and unforgiving against his palms, numbing him with each inch he moves forwards.

He travels on and on for what seems like hours.

Eventually though, he can see in the distance an outline of a square just large enough to squeeze through. His eyes light up with hope and thankfulness and he crawls faster.

When he hears voices outside, he slows to a complete halt. They are close enough to be directly outside his exit.

“That’s cool man,” one of them says in a gruff voice. “But yer sure that ya saw someone o’er he’e?” There was a second’s pause and Jack holds his breath for no particular reason. They don’t know that Jack is close and it’s unlikely they are talking about him in the kitchen.

Ethan though. They could be talking about Ethan.

Jack’s heart pounds with concern in his chest as he inches forward. He worries that they can hear it or smell his fear that must be radiating off his body.

“He’s long gone by now.” Jack’s attention returns to the conversation in front of him. He’s now just a foot away from the door, meaning that if he chose to, he could try to push it open and escape between them. He could thrust it open and then bolt in between the two of them counting on their surprise.

But Jack bides his time as their conversation shifts to how nice of a night it is. How the stars are shining brilliantly, but the moon is nowhere to be seen in the sky.

Jack feels a tug in his chest to go, to be reckless. But no. No he shall wait for a few moments longer.

It only takes a moment for them to be called away by a third party. There is a rumor that the young prince’s room has been found. They are beginning to search it and need extra people to guard the castle entrance, not the barren and useless back area.

The two men, Jack figures by their deep and gruff voices that they have to be male, follow the command and leave. After a few moments, all that Jack can hear are the faded and far away shouts of the mob tearing through the castle.

He dares to open the door. With a low and slight creak, Jack winces as he pushes it open. He then clamours out, almost falling on his face with the speed of his escape.

He looks around frantically. No one can see him at the moment for no one is outside in the garden.

Yes, Jack is facing the garden. In the pale starlight and the glow from the streetlamps, Jack squints and notes that there are bushes of dimly lit flowers and vegetation.

His steps quicken as he races through it, letting his steps take him away. At first, he isn’t sure where he’s headed, but his feet know the way. He lets them do as they wish.

When he ends up in front of a well-known location, he takes a step back in irritation.

His feet know their common paths, he thinks as he clicks his tongue.

With arms crossed in an unprincely-like fashion, he stares ahead angrily at it. The fear of the gangs behind him melts into the background.

Jack glares into the darkness, taking it in and spitting it back out. He hates it. Loathes how it thinks it can pull him into it and consume him. He can’t stand how it is always calling to him and forcing his feet to move forwards.

No more.

Jack finds himself stepping a little bit closer to the entrance and sneering. His hands tighten into fists and his eyes narrow. He finds himself staring the monster in it’s ugly face.

“Fuck you,” He hisses to it.

He’s about to turn away when he hears an excited bit of shouting close behind.

Jack’s head snaps around and he lets out a surprised and alarmed cry as he spots someone.

That someone is followed by a few other people, all equally thrilled at their find. They all wield long swords, some coated in red and dripping blood. All their faces are fixated on Jack in a hungry desire, almost rape-like with lust filled, raging eyes. Jack would shudder if he wasn’t afraid to move in this moment.

They are upon him in moments, tearing away at him and pulling him away from the Labyrinth. His clothes rip as Jack begins to cry out shouts to stop. The people are hungry for his blood though.

They may not be using their swords yet, but they are savoring the moments before the others get here. His body is being pulled apart by the men and women with lustful and vicious eyes, looking all over Jack’s body.

He’s on the ground suddenly, facing upwards at the circle closing in and the faces getting closer. They are lowering themselves towards him, their sick grins yellow and crooked in the lamplight.

Jack yelps as he flips onto his stomach quickly and begins to crawl away before they do anything yet.

Towards the Labyrinth he crawls. It’s his only escape and that’s all he can focus on at the moment.

No one goes to stop him at first. All they can do is cackle at his attempts and point. They are still surrounding him in a circle, close to the Labyrinth.

Jack reaches out a hand towards the entrance only to have it stomped on.

Jack lets out a bloodcurdling screech.

The small group flinches away with shock. They peer at this curled up kid on the ground, screaming his head off who was supposed to be royalty.

No matter how sore his throat gets, Jack cries out for help. He can’t stop screaming.

Something answers his calls.

The darkness of the night grows thicker around Jack. The criminals fade away with their own screams, falling to the darkness that calls. Jack begins to relax for once in the blackness.

Then he feels the pull of something deep in his chest and he feels himself rising to his unsteady, bruised feet.

The Labyrinth is pulling him in.

In this moment, if Jack’s head had been clear, he would’ve run the other direction as quickly as he could.

But in this moment, Jack is powerless. His head is clouded with some murkiness that clouded his thoughts. All he could do was move forwards with small, unconfident steps, trying to resist but failing. Accepting his fate, Jack’s eyes close.

With no other choice, Jack lets the Labyrinth take what it wants.

Somewhere in the depths of the Labyrinth, pearly white teeth form a chilling smile.


	2. Nox

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack's now in the Labyrinth. There are things lurking and looking for him, hungry for something that Jack can give them. When Jack is saved from a kidnapping, he finds sanctuary with a group of warriors. But even in their campsite, he can't help but feel someone's watching over him from the darkness. Something, someone, sinister.

The first thing Jack notices when he comes to his senses it that he’s lying on something hard. Must have been for a while also since his neck has a stitch in it. It’s rather uncomfortable, but as Jack yawns and lifts his head, he notices he’s still alive.

There’s a feeling deep in his chest that levels out and exhales. A burden falls off his shoulders as he lifts his knees upwards and he pulls them close to his chest. He hugs them with a level head.

Then suddenly he thinks back to earlier as he stares into the distance. The fear that he felt is still fresh in his mind and he can see the people peering down at him. He can feel his clothes tearing and his raising heart rate.

Jack’s legs drop and he reaches a shaky hand to his chest. His heart is thumping loudly.

He can feel hot tears rolling down his face as he grips his night shirt in a tight fist. He looks down at the stains of dried blood that speckle and spot the t-shirt. The tears add to the group of stains.

He squeezes his eyes shut in a bruised pain as he begins to feel the wounds that line his body. Both his sides ache from the hard ground and the kicks delivered. His legs are sore from racing about after Ethan. He’s sure that his head is just floating about and that it might not be attached to his body.

Of course, it doesn’t help that he begins to rise to his feet in a moment. His head throbs with the new height and he desperately wants to sit back down. Instead he stands there dumbly, afraid in a way to move back to the ground. If he does so, he might not get up for a while.

So he just stands there with his hand on his head, trying not to think to hard, but failing.

How long had it been since that night? Jack can’t tell from off the top of his head. He was sure that it’s been a bit. At least a day, if not more. By the pain he still feels, Jack knows it hasn’t been too long. That’s comforting at least.

Jack’s mind wanders on, trying to recall the details of the night. His eyes flash to Ethan’s, full of fear and worry. He thinks of the corridors he raced down and how his feet wandered towards a familiar site. He remembers the events before he finally broke his taboo.

There’s a sharp pain in his head at the thought of the mobs and his encounter with them.

It’s not like they fully did anything, but Jack shivers when he remembers what they almost did. He rubs his arms as they freeze with the thought. He can still hear their laughter and he can see the glint of swords and in their eyes.

He shakes the thoughts from his head and looks down at his tattered pants. They are ripped at the knees, but still wearable. He looks like a peasant, he thinks to himself with undetermined emotion.

If he did in fact look like a peasant, would the mob be able to recognize him? Jack didn’t really know.

He stretches out his arms and lets out another yawn in an attempt to fully wake himself up.

It doesn’t really matter what Jack looks like actually. He recalls as he looks around him, taking in the change of scenery a crucial fact. He did travel inside the Labyrinth.

That’s what he figures at least as his eyes scan the path he rests upon.

It’s a stone one with cracks and moss growing between each slab pieced together. It’s a smooth path though and it won’t take too much attention to prevent falling on one’s face.

There are stones however growing in the middle at awkward points joined by randomly placed lamps. The lamps and stones are sometimes even found in the middle of the path, blocking horses or carriages from getting through the paths.

It’s morning Jack decides as he looks up a hazy blue sky that’s covered with dull clouds. It really could be any time, to tell the truth, but it feels like morning. There’s a frigid breeze and the clouds float to the ground slightly in a bluish fog only broken up by the hardly lit lamps. The mixture of blue and orange light is mysterious, but beautiful looking.

But the breeze in the air isn’t that cold Jack notices. In fact, though his skin is slightly bluish and feels cold as he puts his hands together, but he feels warm deep in his chest. It’s a golden flowing feeling that Jack can just barely describe.

When Jack began to loose time with his siblings as they took on more duties as royalty, he was often left alone. It was lonesome, but there was a fireplace and there were books to keep him company. So on rainy nights with thunder and lightning bickering in the distance, he had someone make a fire for him. He’d pull a blanket from his bed and in the library surrounded by books he’d delve into story after story.

There’d be this feeling of safety, of warmth and of joy inside of him. For some odd reason, he felt that deep in his chest at this moment.

And at the same time, a feeling of dread rests right next to it. He can’t understand his feeling of bliss in this new place, and that really terrifies him.

It’s not just the fact that he has entered this place he’d been told not to. To make it worse is that he’s happy to be here. He bites his thumb in confusion and alarm.

Still, that feeling of hope and warmth in his chest motivates him to begin to walk along the pathway.

Without a plan, his feet always seem to know where to go in the presence of the Labyrinth. Once again, alarming but Jack couldn’t force himself to focus on that.

Almost instantly, as if his nerves were trying to prevent him from leaving, Jack’s foot snags on a stray rock that had gone unnoticed. Before he realizes what’s going on, he’s on his hands and knees.

He groans to himself and just stays there for a moment. He just contemplates his next move with his eyes closed, defeated and oh so tired despite just waking up. He can’t wrap his head around these new surroundings.

“Hello?” He can hear a tiny croak of a voice near him. Jack’s eyes snap open in surprise and he looks around. There’s no one there and his eyes fall back down.

His eyes drop upon a toad-like creature dotted with orange specks on it’s drab colored body. It blinks up at Jack with dark, mysterious eyes, searching his face.

Though toads are typically dull creatures, there’s something about this particular one. Jack feels as if it’s trying to read him, as impossible and ridiculous as that may sound.

While Jack remains speechless and close to the ground, it hops around Jack, getting a full glimpse at his body. Uncomfortable, but unable to will himself to move, Jack tries to follow the toad with the turn of his head and the cast of his eyes.

The toad is thorough with its gazing and takes whatever it is doing seriously. It lingers in certain sections, like Jack’s face and with his clothes. It even jumps onto Jack’s back and hops over on his shirt. Those bruises and cuts along Jack’s body begin to flare up with the added weight upon them. He winces at the weight, but it disappears as soon as it began for the toad is off in a flash. It stands back in front of him. It stares up with unblinking eyes.

“Prince Séan?” It presumes. Jack simply blinks down at it with confusion, once more speechless.

It stares up in response, searching Jack’s face once more, rechecking.

Then with a jerk, it grabs Jack’s face with its front webbed feet. It’s body is slimy with nerves as it stares into Jack’s eyes. The toad is unwavering and Jack feels a wave of intensity and seriousness radiating off this tiny creature. Jack swallows anxiously.

“You are Prince Séan, aren’t you?” The toad echos it’s earlier question.

Without answering, Jack breaks the stare with a yank away from the toad’s grip. He begins to sit onto his knees as the toad shakes off the shock of being thrown off. It just stares up at Jack flabbergasted, but also insulted.

When Jack settles down again on his knees, the toad jumps onto his thigh and just glares. It sits there with dark eyes, waiting for Jack to answer the question.

“Well,” Jack begins as he rubs the back of his head and refuses to look at the toad. “I actually go by Jack…usually. The only people who really use that name are my parents and advisors…”

“But you are indeed Prince Séan of the Outside Kingdom?” The toad repeats itself with its newfound dark mood. It’s anxiety has shifted completely Jack realizes. In some way, he found his skin crawling with discomfort as the toad pierced his soul with its eyes.

“Outside kingdom?” Jack asks with uncertainty. He looks down at the curious creature with embarrassment, though there is no way that Jack would’ve known what the ‘outside kingdom’ was in the first place. The toad lets out an irritated and exaggerated sigh.

“The kingdom beyond our borders,” The toad explains, vexation rolling off its long tongue. Our meaning these, Jack thinks as he looks around the scenery once more and the dark shadows that weren’t highlighted by the lamps.

“Is it safe to assume you are not from here?” the toad continues speaking and Jack glances back at it. There is a pause in the air.

Then Jack begins to rise. Before he moves, he holds out his palms. The toad leaps into them and Jack is on his feet. He gazes around.

“Yeah,” he answers with a hoarse voice. He’s become hyper aware of his surroundings now and his eyes flicker back and forth, glazing over each little stone, rock and lamp. “I’m from the outside.”

“Then you are in fact Prince Séan?” The toad asks once more. Jack’s attention flickers back to the toad. His eyes suddenly darken.

“Who wants to know?” Jack asks curtly.

The toad doesn’t answer right away unlike the other times. It doesn’t even look irritated or curious like before. Instead it is dumbfounded and terror-struck by the very audacity of Jack to ask such a question.

As it gapes open it’s mouth several times, it seems the toad is worried how it should answer the question correctly. The words roll around on the toad’s large tongue for several passing seconds.

“That,” it begins. “That…that would…be a good question.”

The toad finally settles with this answer and leaps from Jack’s hands onto the ground. It lands perfectly on its feet. Then it stares back up at the toad.

“Follow me and I will show you,” It finally offers with a toothless grin that splits its small head into two complete halves. It’s large, gaping and a cavern that Jack is sure could swallow anything.

“And why should I?” Jack turns to being difficult though he feels a shiver run up his back. He folds his arms into his chest. He hopes the fear he feels in his chest doesn’t show on his face.

There is a fear of the unknown resting upon his chest. As he recalls his mother’s warnings against entering the Labyrinth, he wonders why he even tried to talk or acknowledge this creature. It should’ve been obvious that everything here would be suspiciously dangerous. Jack’s sure that this toad isn’t all it looks to be.

Jack finds some sort of confidence within him. His gaze hardens.

The toad would groan at the prince’s expression if he hadn’t been told to be as patient and understanding as possible towards him. It hates this job with every second and it can feel its armor cracking with each passing moment. It’s composure is melting away.

“Follow me Prince,” The toad orders Jack once more, beginning to hop down the path. It doesn’t want to wait.

It takes a second for Jack to blink away his stare and realize that the toad was leaving. He looks to the toad in awe, but then knits his eyebrows together and purses his lips. His head raises in defiance.

“No,” He spits out. The toad stops and stays a meter in front of Jack.

“Come,” The toad demands without looking back. Jack shifts his arms so that they lay at his side, his hands close in fists and his face forms a deep frown.

“No,” Jack speaks with even more confidence. “I won’t. Not until you tell me why and who wants to meet me.”

With new adrenaline pumping with his stubbornness, the panic is rising back up again. The golden hues of the lamps around him are flickering darker as the toad’s mood grows worse and worse. Jack hopes the light won’t go out if he keeps pushing. At the same time, Jack is more afraid to stop pushing and to give in.

What would happen then?

The toad is hoping back to Jack and stands directly below him. It mostly looks disappointed. It’s narrowed black eyes are soulless, without pity and without an ounce of tolerance for Jack’s unwillingness to cooperate.

Was the toad always so large?

Jack finds himself noticing that with each new scowl, each new word that he utters in opposition, the toad grows a bit more. It’s now the size of a small dog, but it keeps growing larger.

The orange bumps on it’s back are fizzing with some liquid inside and the slit of a mouth is the color of fresh blood, trickling out slightly at the corners. The eyes, still soulless, appear to be fueled by an anger instead of a nothingness.

As it edges towards him on floppy feet, Jack rocks backwards, hands raised. With each new step, the toad grows larger ever. Until finally when Jack finds himself hitting a dead end it is monstrous, almost like a mountain. It’s almost as tall as the wall that Jack is pressed against.

“Fuck,” Jack hisses out barely above a whisper. The toad only peers down at him with disappointment.

“Follow me,” The toad demands once again. Despite better judgment, Jack shakes his head. His heart is beating with urgency, telling him to break into a sprint.

The toad takes this as the grandest insult and its throat pouch puffs out with a low and startling croak. The inflated pouch is a large bulge that slams Jack against the wall.

He hits it hard with a crack sounding near his head. It starts to feel as if it’s exploding, but Jack can’t bring himself to shout out in agony. He can’t breath.

When the pouch finally drops, Jack collapses to his knees. He takes in several sharp breaths in with relief. The frog creature reaches forwards and in a slippery hand, it grabs Jack.

“I must not disappoint,” it whispers under it’s breath. “By whatever means necessary.”

Jack is stunned, unable to bring himself to struggle. His arms are pinned to his side by the slippery hand, but his legs remain free.

As they begin to travel forwards, Jack comes to his senses. With each hop, he feels more queasy and squirms a bit more, trying to break free.

With each squirm, the toad’s grip grows tighter. It grows more determined to move forwards with Jack still in it’s grip. The hopping gets faster and the walls begin to move in a darker blur that Jack can’t concentrate on.

The blur is darker than the area Jack had been in earlier, but not from a lack of lamps. The lights pulsate dimly, as if reacting to Jack’s emotions of fear. Jack’s fleeting heart matches the dim flutter of the light surrounding him.

He can’t help but feel a childish phobia of the dark and what lies within it rise within him.

What is waiting for him? Something is waiting for him. Someone?

Jack tries to let out a scream a little too late for anyone to try and help him. Barely any sound escapes his throat and he knows it’s still raw from earlier.

The Labyrinth seems to be abandoned anyway, so even if he could cry out, no one would notice. No one was there.

Still Jack tries his hardest to make noise, whether it is screaming or kicking at the toad with his free legs to get it to make noise as well. Any sound is welcomed. If someone hears it, even if they want to kill Jack, can provide a way for Jack to escape. He’’s counting on this because it’s the only thing he can rely on.

So Jack struggles and screeches and protests against the current circumstances as the toad grows more angry and the bulges on its back grow until they are round orbs of an orange puss substance, hardly being held back. They look as if they might pop at any time.

Not only that by the soulless eyes are deep slits like a demon pupil and the slash of a mouth is opened in a menacing growl. There are sharp teeth that hadn’t been there moments ago.

The toad looks down at him, pausing for a moment. Jack takes in all of the new features and his voice falters. It cracks and goes silent. The toad turns his attention back to the path and turns a right corner.

Jack gives up with fear growing in his chest.

In that moment, he’s so worried the toad will consume him with that gaping mouth and those deep, soul-stealing eyes. He shuts his eyes closed and pulls his legs closer to his body.

The corridors are finally back to their silence with only the slight slap of frog feet hitting stone echoing around him.

Jack feels defeated, but in a final ditch effort, he looks up to the toad with pleading eyes.

“Hey,” He tries to get the toad’s attention. It doesn’t look down.

“Toad.” There’s no response. Jack just goes ahead and assumes that it’s listening and continues.

“I can get you what you want…if you let me go.” There’s no acknowledgment in the toad’s features, so Jack tries to continue.

“Riches. My family is powerful and rich and we can get you the gold your heart desires.”

The toad takes no notice and hops onwards.

“Okay!” Jack’s desperate voice reaches a higher octave. “That’s fine!” He thinks for a moment. “Favors! We can grant you powerful favors and political sway in our court. You can be an advisor to the king…or something like that!”

Once again, no response. Only the cold stare ahead. Jack is running low on ideas that he doubts he’d be able to grant.

“Um…how about…ladies?” Jack can’t think of anything else. “Men? Lovers? We could hook you up with…something?” Jack is uncertain what this toad would even want from someone, sex, love, money. What could a magical, growing toad desire that Jack’s family possessed?

“Nevermind that!” Jack waves it off. “How about a…personal favor from me?” He knows this one’s a stretch. What could the toad personally want that Jack himself could provide.

However at this, the toad’s eyes turn to look at Jack for a split-second. They faintly gleam with interest.

“What could you offer?” the toad asks. Jack bites his lip under the attentive gaze.

“A-anything,” Jack stutters. “Almost anything.” He swallows as the toad’s eyes go back to the road.

“How ‘bout throwing a few favors in for me from the King?” The toad asks simply. Jack wrinkles his eyebrows together in confusion.

“The king?” Jack questions. “My dad? I offered that earlier but you didn’t seem to want…” The toad’s irritation is back again and the deflating sacks of orange began to swell again. The grip around Jack’s body tightens and he gasps.

“No!” It thunders. “The-”

But the toad is cut short as an arrow flies into the back of its head. It cries out in agony and Jack is thrown to the ground as it flails around.

It faces towards Jack almost instantly, still failing and trying to reach back to pull out the arrow. It’s mouth is fully agape and Jack squeaks in panic. It’s a large cavern that could consume a whole army in one gulp. It wouldn’t take anything for the toad to swallow little Jack cowering underneath an overhead lamp.

The toad’s breath is hard and fast, switching between an open gaping mouth and a bulging throat of pride. It’s eyes are fierce. Its bumps on its back are beginning to ooze out orange puss with puffs of a steam-like substance.

There is a cry from the shadows around and something is rushing towards the toad in a blur of speed. The blur launches itself at the toad’s throat and begins to plunge its spear into the unprotected skin.

Jack cranes his neck to get a better view, but doesn’t dare to stand to his feet. He can see snippets of the event unfolding as the toad moves about trying to shake off the blue blur.

The toad isn’t completely helpless though. It fights back with swats of its webbed feet and biting at the shape moving about.

The blur finds bits of exposed flesh and uses their spear to pierce the skin. Each time, the toad’s cries grow more desperate and pain filled. Jack covers his ears, tears in his eyes as he scrunches them closed.

The toad fights onwards with the snapping of it’s jaws and with each flick of movement, but it’s no use. The single, swift blur is too much for it.

Jack opens his eyes as he hears a pop like an exploding balloon. There is blood splattering everywhere along with bits of flesh and organs. The orange puss pops and so has the toad.

All that’s left of the toad is a marmalade colored stain on the mossy stone pathway. It splatters just short of hitting Jack’s shoes and fizzles with steam.

Jack looks down by his feet and catches sight of one of its eyeballs. Jack yelps in alarm and kicks at it with his foot. It doesn’t move far, but Jack makes the distance larger as he scoots back. He uses the lamp’s pole as a shield against it.

The blur chuckles from above and kicks away the eyeball further. She stands before Jack, cleaning her orange liquid covered spear with a piece of spare cloth. Jack dares to move closer.

Jack turns attention back to the fizzing orange puss, curiosity filling him. It’s still steaming and it’s insanely hot as Jack lays a hand over it, making a move to touch it.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Jack looks up. The tall woman stands before him with her spear fit on her back now. Her face fixed in a knowing smugness.

Jack decides instantly in the light that she is beautiful in a mysterious, warrior-like way.

She has pale, glittering blue skin that shines in the golden light. She has three black stripes on each of her cheeks and her lips are solid black as they smile down at him. She has a dimple in one of her cheeks as well, which is too adorable for her muscled body.

She is barefoot. She stands in the toad’s puss without flinching.

“How come you’re allowed to touch it,” Jack asks as he retracts his hand.

She lets out a laugh as she crouches to look directly into his eyes. She has soul-piercing eyes, but they feel warmer, more alive than the toad’s ever could be.

“You are a curious one aren’t you?” She says as she offers a slender hand to help him up. Jack accepts it and rises to his feet.

His legs are shaking slightly and his face blushes furiously in embarrassment, worried that he might fall if she let’s go. She continues holding his hand.

“You are not from around here are you?” She asks understandingly.

“What’s your name?” Jack responds with. She smiles, but also appears to be annoyed by Jack’s dodging of the question.

“It matters not,” She answers. “But if you wish to identify me, simply call me Hunter.” Jack steadies and she finally drops her hand from his.

“It’s lovely to meet you Hunter,” Jack offers a smile as kind as he can offer. “Yeah. I’m not from around here, as unobvious as that might be.” The Hunter nods.

She motions for him to follow her. This time, Jack doesn’t protest. She leads him away from the spreading mass of orange puss that consumes all in its path, taking a route that’s still dry.

“So what were you doing here with that thing?” the Hunter asks as she cleans a dripping splash of orange puss from her lips.

Jack struggles to keep up with her. She has a pace that’s strong, confident and knows where it’s going, the opposite of Jack’s. When he catches up so that he’s just trailing at her heels, he opens his mouth.

“What was it?” Jack ignores her question.

“Why were you with it?” She repeats herself. Her voice isn’t demanding, but it is interested. Jack wants to answer her, to let her know everything about the toad.

However all Jack can do is shrug and speak the truth.

“It just showed up,” He explains. “It appeared and demanded that I go with it. Something about not wanting to disappoint someone…?”

There’s a shift in the Hunter’s attitude with this last part of his explanation. She straightens into a perfect line and remains still with a sudden stop. Her gaze is fixated ahead. Her forehead is wrinkled in deep thought. Jack remains at her side.

“What?” He asks innocently as she shakes her head, breaking her intensity. Her face shifts into a thin smile, but her eyes remain alert.

“Unimportant now,” She insists. “It’s best to not speak of these things when the walls have ears.”

To prove her point, she launches her spear at a patch of ivy covered stone.

At first, Jack is sure that she’s just showing off her strength, but when a tiny body falls to the ground he gasps. A small squeak shouts in alarm as the Hunter moves closer to the little body. It’s not dead yet until the Hunter yanks out the spear and brings it upon the small thing’s head. A defeated wheeze, the life fades from its tiny eyes. The mouse-like creature dies.

Jack shivers.

“It’s a good thing I found you,” the Hunter sighs. She stands taller than Jack, even with her shoulders arched slightly and she reaches towards his face with the back of her hand. Though uncomfortable, Jack doesn’t flinch away. Her expression isn’t lustful, just concerned.

“Me too,” Jack admits. The Hunter’s hand falls away and she turns back to the path. They begin to move onwards with a turn to the left.

-◇-◈-◇-

When Jack reaches the campsite, he is surprised by how blue everything is.

The ground and sky seem to glow in deep shades highlighted by soft lighter ones. In the oak-like trees, there are pale blue dots like little jewels. Like stars in the sky. The tents scattered about seem to blend into the ground in a rich royal blue. The only bit of contrast is the large bonfire that crackles yellow and orange with embers lighting the sky.

Jack is in awe.

The inhabitants haven’t noticed Jack and the Hunter’s presence completely. The two stand by the entrance, looking out into the bustle of action going about. It isn’t until the Hunter drops her spear with a thud that eyes flicker towards her, then towards Jack. Everyone holds their breath in silence.

“Welcome to Nox,” the Hunter finally turns to Jack and offers him an inviting smile. “It’s been a while since we’ve had an outsider come into our home.”

“An outsider?” Jack echos, wondering if she means an outsider to her group or an outsider to the Labyrinth.

“Nox?” He continues, but the Hunter has already left him. She goes into the campsite with quickened and powerful steps to speak to someone waving her over.

Jack stands off to the side in the patchy grass. He feels awkward and useless. He just watches as the campsite roars back into the actions they were doing before the Hunter’s call to attention.

There’s about twenty or thirty women. Though few, their energy and joy is more than any king’s army could be. There is loud, obnoxious chatter flying about and urgency in every moment.

This is Nox.

Whatever that is.

Jack’s attention returns to the Hunter when he feels the sense of eyes upon him. He watches as the Hunter points him out and says something to the girl next to her.

the Hunter’s face is more serious than when he had met her and her words look sharp. The other person bites her own fist nervously. She tries to keep from interrupting the Hunter though she lifts her head to comment every so often.

Jack feels the urge to wave to them, but only balls his hands into fists. He tries to look away, to ignore the eyes fallen upon him.

Thankfully, they don’t speak for too much longer. The Hunter begins walking back to him, the other warrior girl trailing behind.

“I have forgotten your name traveller,” the Hunter admits with a slight bit of shame in her voice. Jack shakes his head.

“Don’t sweat it,” Jack says with a forced smile though he’s nervous. “I never told you anyway.” He pauses as he gazes towards the other girl hiding behind the Hunter.

She looks shy with glassy silver eyes and a flush on her pale blue cheeks. Jack tries to put her at ease with a comforting smile, but she only blushes a darker blue.

“Jack,” He says as he turns back to the Hunter.

Something flickers within the Hunter as if she’s trying to piece something together. She looks troubled. Before Jack can ask, she waves him off with her hand.

“There’s no need,” the Hunter tells him with kind eyes. “It’s time to get you some food and rest, you look exhausted.”

With that comment, Jack realizes he really is. His stomach growls in agreement.

“That would be nice!” He laughs. “Thank you.” The Hunter offers him another one of her smiles. She looks over her shoulder to the other girl.

“Can you lead him to the fire and then head off on your Hunt?” She asks with a hushed voice. The girl nods with a glance towards Jack. He hopes that she won’t be too flustered to help him. He’s thrilled when her dark lips form a sweet smile.

The two head off together while the Hunter goes off to address other matters. Jack feels a tap on his shoulder and the girl points out which direction to start walking.

There isn’t much chatter between the two. They walk almost side-by-side, with the girl a footstep ahead.

She looks at Jack with a shy smile in her eyes and her hands held behind her back. She only comments that they’ll be having dinner soon, but she looks like she wants to say more.

Jack doesn’t really mind not talking. In fact, he cherishes the opportunity to just think for a small moment and wrap his head around his new surroundings.

He still can’t understand how this all happened.

He rubs his arms and feels slime coating his sleeves. He notices orange holes burnt into the fabric of his nightshirt and the material of his pants. He even sees burnt skin near his ankles, though it’s not as bad as the burns in his clothes. His shoes are badly scuffed.

He sighs out loud and the girl by his side looks up at him. She’s shorter than him, but not by much.

“You alright?” She wonders as they near the fire. Jack can only shrug, standing just before the fire near a log.

The girl goes to another log and picks up a red blanket. It is slightly sooty from being near the fire, but she offers it to Jack. He gladly takes it. A smile forms on her face and she sits on the log beside him.

“You are a prince?” She finally breaks the silence.

Jack looks over at her in surprise, but she won’t face him. Her eyes are fixated on the fire. He lets out a sigh.

Before he can speak, the girl starts again.

“I apologize,” She turns to him. “I know that’s invasive. I was just curious since that’s what I was told.”

“By Hunter?” Jack asks. The girl only gives him an odd look. Jack doesn’t really know how to react and she notices that. She falls into a smile and a light laugh.

“Oh you mean Foncé?” She giggles. “Did she **refuse** to say her name, again?” The way she says it is so casual and different from the timid girl walking by his side. He can’t help, but let her pull out a sheepishly grin from his face. He snuggles into the blanket.

“What kinda name is that?” Jack asks with a bit of a point to his word. She lets out a heartier laugh.

“It means ‘dark’ in French,” The girl explains. “It’s silly really and…in a way…kinda sad. Once the Labyrinth claims one of us, it renames us.

“We forget our names. Our past lives. Everything. In return, we become one with the Labyrinth and much more.

“For the oddest reason, it tends to favor european titles with translations that fit well with the name of our group.”

“Let me guess,” Jack thinks as he holds his chin. “It means ‘maze’ in French, or something.”

“Almost,” the girl by his side says as she scoots a little closer. She turns to Jack with a bright grin, contrasting the darkness of her lips and face. She points up to the dark sky as she says, “night in Latin. But nice effort. I give you a three outta five stars.”

“Only three!” Jack cries in mock outrage. “Well excuse me for not knowing Latin for fucksake!” They both laugh together like old friends.

Her eyes turn back to the fire and Jack slouches forwards so his elbows lay on his legs. His head falls onto his hands in exhaustion. He forces himself to stay awake for the sake of his grumbling stomach and for the girl by his side.

“So…” He breaths into the cool air, noticing his breath comes out in a puff. “What’s your name?” The girl blinks at him for a second and then realizes what he asked.

“Natlys,” She answers with an accent.

“What does that mean?” Jack asks. He sits up slightly and leans towards her. Maybe it was out of a habit for him to get close to anyone he talked to so casually. Maybe it was something else. Either way, Jack lifts up his blanket for Natlys to sit underneath. Though she seems slightly nervous and uncomfortable at first, she soon just smiles and lets the blanket fall over her shoulder. They both feel warmer now that they were so close.

“I don’t really know,” She finally answers. “It’s not french…some other European language.”

The conversation dies away and the two sit in silence staring at the sky. The bulbs on the trees act as fallen stars and the air runs a breeze through their hair. There is a sense of tranquility between the two of them as if a held in breath had been let out in relief.

He had rested his head on Natlys’s shoulder, but now his eyes flick to the shadows. He feels something is watching at his back, some sort of dark and angried pair of eyes. Jack’s hands are sweaty as he runs a hand through his greasy hair.

Natlys notices his change of attitude and scoots away. The blanket drops sadly by Jack’s side. Natlys looks flustered once again, but more ashamed than ever. Before Jack can comfort her, she just speaks.

“I’ve got to go,” She explains to him. “I must go to the Hunt.”

“The Hunt?” Jack echos. Natlys, though she looks like she wants to run away, stands and wills herself to explain quickly.

“Nox is in charge of keeping the creatures of the Labyrinth in check,” She explains. “It’s my task for the night…” She looks like she wishes to explain more, but the words don’t come.

“I hope to see you soon,” She says with little wave before she turns on her heel. With quickened pace, she joins a group forming at the edge of the clearing, the opposite direction Jack and the Hunter entered. Jack feels lonely as he watches her disappear into the shadows.

“Natlys is one of the younger ones,” Jack hears a voice behind him. He turns instantly and comes face to face with the Hunter.

“She seems to still recall snippets of her life before,” She gives Jack a knowing grin. Jack looks away into the fire as the Hunter sits upon a nearby log.

“Are you hungry?” She asks after a moment and Jack’s stomach responds for him. She chuckles.

“My warriors are preparing tonight’s meal,” She assures him. “It’ll be ready soon and you can tell us more about yourself.” Jack shifts uncomfortably under her interested gaze, but brings himself to nod. His eyes never leave the fire, feeling the heat of multiple pairs of eyes upon him.

He never shakes the feeling of eyes watching him in the dark. In fact, as the others come forwards and join the Hunter and Jack, the intensity of their stare grows. Jack’s back crawls with discomfort from being watched so intently.

The Hunter is right though, the dinner arrives shortly afterwards. Rabbit legs, or legs of a creature that is the same size as one, appear on a plate. A warrior girl with most of her face covered walks around with it, her dark eyes bright and inviting. Jack takes one with a “thank you”. When the Hunter motions for him to take another, he does so.

The meat is deliciously rich. It melts off the bone and into his mouth. It doesn’t really taste like rabbit despite it’s looks. It’s gamey, but soft and savory on his tongue.

He hears himself audibly melt with the flavor. This earns a burst of giggles from the warriors of Nox that now sit with him by the fire.

Jack burns with embarrassment, but as the group begins to talk of other things, he relaxes and takes another bite. This time, he doesn’t melt. The meal continues.

They all eagerly share glances with him between bites of their own food and comments in their own conversations. Jack’s this new object that they had found, a priceless jewel, that they want to know more about.

When Jack finishes both the legs, the Hunter clears her throat.

“So Jack,” She addresses him as he swallows the final bite. “Tell us, how did you find your way into our territory?” The way she asks sounds curious with a hint of…was that pity?

“It was an accident,” He admits with a bashful smile. “I was supposed to be in bed, but…”

His smile falters and falls to the ground. His eyes follow as he grows more stiff and solemn. Jack remembers that night.

Just as quickly as his face changes, he shoves it down. The bashful smile returns as if nothing had happened. “There was a small squirmish at my house and I found my way into here to escape it.” Though the truth, Jack left out the gruesome, uncomfortable details.

No one catches his pause. No one looks suspicious of his awkward answer. They all nod along and thank him for being here.

The Hunter knows. Jack can read it in her liquid silver eyes and pursed lips. She doesn’t say a word though. All she does is offer Jack a pitying glance.

She knows something, Jack realizes. She knows something **important**. He decides he’ll ask her about it later when he can catch her alone.

“I also understand you are a prince?” the Hunter brings up as she hides her pitying look. Jack nods.

“Yeah,” Jack rubs the back of his head. “I guess saying there was a squirmish at my ‘house’ was an understatement.” He chuckles lightly and a few chuckles and smiles point back at him. He feels an aura of comfort and friendliness surrounding him.

He doesn’t know the Nox warriors and he knows they aren’t the warmest, most open group. Just the same, they laugh and open their arms to him as if he weren’t a stranger at all, but a brother. They seem captivated by his boring tales of his life outside these walls. They even seem fascinated by the most tedious tales of the throne room or his family in general.

The castle must be a fantasy to these creatures who live in this mythical realm. He wants to appease them, but at the same time he tries to shift the conversation on them.

Jack wants to know about these corridors, of their Hunts and anything about Nox. The warriors don’t open up and always bounce it back to him.

Still, Jack remains energized and tries to convey each tale with a loud and excited voice. The blanket has fallen onto the log, resting partially in his lap as he uses his hands to gesture. His eyes get big with each twist to his story and his mouth is opened in a grin when he is being asked a question or receiving an answer.

But eventually, sleep drags back at him and a yawn interrupts his story about how Ethan and him crashed a ball when they were younger.

The other warriors seem to be drifting too as their nods and reactions fall shorter and aren’t as enthusiastic. The Hunter rises to her feet with a huff.

“It is time for sleep,” She announces to the crowd. Most nod and trudge off to their sleeping quarters while a few stay to clean up or have already fallen asleep on the logs.

The Hunter stamps out the fire and Jack rises on wobbly feet. He nearly falls over because he’s been sitting too long.

“Where should I spend the night?” Jack wonders. The Hunter looks down and points to a far off, slanted tent.

“Not the best one,” She warns him. “But we’ll find you something better if you choose to stay with us a bit longer.” She pauses, placing a hand on his shoulder. She looks deep in his eyes with a warning to her voice.

“I’m sure you have things to do.”

Jack shakes his head and scoffs. The Hunter removes her hand.

“Getting lost is the only thing I can do in here,” Jack jokes. “And believe me, that is not on my bucket list.” The Hunter smirks and pushes Jack lightly in the direction of his guest tent. Jack takes the blanket in his arms and leaves for the bed.

His walking is slow. His eyes droop, but a smile rest on his face. He doesn’t even bother getting under the provided covers as he hits the pillow. With the fire blanket over him, Jack closes his eyes expecting a peaceful slumber.

Before he sleeps, there’s that feeling of someone watching over him. Jack’s eyes flash open with a new surge of energy. He’s sitting up now.

He searches the pitch blackness of the tent, trying to find the watchful figure. He can’t see anything, but the feeling lingers. He shivers despite the tent trapping warmth inside.

He lays his head back on the pillow lightly, his eyes still searching. He suddenly can’t find sleep. He just wants to know who’s there in the shadows and why.

Jack’s tired, but not only from a lack of energy. He’s tired of being kept in the dark. He’s tired of finding himself in the literal and figurative dark, over and over and over again. He wants to feel the sunlight on his face. He wants to know the knowledge that has been out of his reach.

He wants to know the secrets of the Labyrinth. Why did it call to him, and only him, not the rest of his family? Why did his family respect this place so much? And why does Jack feel a sense of anxiety mixed with a strange comfort whenever he’s in pitch darkness? Why is he so paranoid right now?

As time passes on, he gives into rest. His eyes flutter closed and he wills his body to shut off.

He hardly feels a ghost of a hand in his hair. A pair of lips gives him a light goodnight kiss on his temple and then disappears into the darkness.

-◇-◈-◇-

Jack doesn’t expect himself to fall into a dream as he closes his eyes. Considering the fact that he didn’t even think he would be able to fall asleep, this is incredibly unanticipated.

He’s in the dark on his feet. It’s cold, but not enough to cause him to freeze. He does shiver though. He rubs his frozen arms and notices that he’s wet. Was it nervous sweat or had he been dunked in some water? It drips off of him onto a perfectly smooth floor.

Suddenly he’s on his knees with a gasp of pain. He’s clutching at his chest as it burns, as if his heart is molten rock trying to ooze out of him.

He can hardly breathe out and in hot, tiny breaths. With the heat of his heart, maybe there’s smoke coming from his mouth. That would explain how gritty and boiling each inhale and exhale feels. He coughs.

When the burning begins to lessen, Jack tries to rise to his feet. It’s hard and he feels sore, extremely weak. The burning must have sucked all of the heat from his body and the air is even colder around him. He’s still wet despite the heat.

He’s shaking violently with the coldness and his teeth chatter along. He hugs his arms and his legs wobble as he tries to walk around in the darkness.

“Hello?” He cries in a hoarse voice, praying someone would answer.

No one does in the dreamscape.

Jack **is** aware that this is a dream. It’s easy to assume since he remembers everything vividly that had happened recently. It’s rare for this to happen to him, but it’s not the first time that Jack lucid dreams like this.

To be honest, lucid dreaming is so much worse than anything else.

Jack wants to wake up. He wants to be in the tent again and wants to run towards the Hunter, demand to know what she knows. He wants to shake the information out of her and then demand that he be let out of this fucking maze.

More than anything, Jack wants to be in his own bed. He wants to know if Ethan is okay and he wants to see his parents and siblings again. He wants the mob to be stopped and the people to be appeased.

Even the ones that almost assaulted him, he thinks bitterly. If Jack had to let them go unpunished, yet he was allowed his freedom from the Labyrinth, then he’d take it. Anything to get out of this mess.

Though Jack finds himself wishing this, he can’t will himself to change the scene. No matter how hard he tries, the dream refuses to change. He’s still surrounded by the darkness.

Jack hears a cry. It takes him a moment to realize that it’s coming from him. A hiccup follows and there are several tears dropping onto his cheek. He rubs it away instantly.

Everything will be fine.

But he can’t lie to himself for too long. In that moment, he becomes a shivering, shaking and tear-filled mess on the floor. He collapses in a broken heap. He folds into a tiny ball.

There he is, the cold taking over like the hand of death. Tears shake from his body and his heart is beating in a rhythm impossible to keep up with. His lips tremble and he doesn’t make a sound besides small hiccups.

He had learned to silently cry so he doesn’t disturb others. He doesn’t want to be a bother and in a large family and as a prince, Jack doesn’t want to bring unnecessary attention to himself.

But someone, something, takes notice. Jack feels a hand on his shoulder.

For a second, Jack lets it rest there and his shaking diminishes almost instantly. He’s calmer, not completely, but enough. The comfort slows his heart rate.

Then like a flash, Jack is on his feet. He gazes around, trying to see who was there. His eyes are narrowed in suspicion as he searches.

The darkness reveals no one.

The darkness does something else though. It pulls.

At first it’s a simple tug that’s hardly noticeable. Jack walks away from it, breaking contact easily.

The pull comes back with a vengeance. Jack falls backwards, but before he hits the ground, he’s caught by a hand in the dark. He tries to push off of it, run away, but it’s comfortable open palm, turns into a fist around his shirt. It doesn’t let go. It pulls back, taking Jack further into the darkness.

In the very distance of his vision, Jack can see a pinprick of light out there beyond reach. He squints and fights against the pull to get closer to it.

Jack makes progress and pushes forwards with weighted steps. It’s working and the pinprick turns into a dot that turns into a spot and a full formed circle.

There are two figures standing by the circle. Jack’s face breaks into an overwhelmingly happy smile when he recognizes them.

“Mother! Father!” He cries to them and begins to run. They appear to have open arms, warm faces and acceptance. They look desperate for Jack to reach them too and Jack is willing to go the extra mile to reach them.

Everything slows. Jack’s legs move with a defeated pace. His parent’s waving and shouting turns into a slow motion silent film. He can see them, but he can’t hear them.

Jack tries to push through it all. Despite every obstacle, he wills himself forwards.

The pull has a different plan. It drags back on him and when Jack still pushes forwards, it yanks.

Jack refuses to step down and thrusts himself forwards. His eyes are narrowed on the light and his family. His hands are fists and his legs drive him forwards as speed returns to normal.

The pull almost gives in.

It’s not the type to give up though and it heaves Jack backwards. He’s swept off his feet and Jack thuds to the ground. Hard. His back aches and he can’t catch his breath quickly.

He’s still gasping for air when he feels his arms being towed away by an iron grip. Jack cries out, struggles, but he can’t get to his feet. The pulling has a grip on the situation and won’t be letting go anytime soon.

Jack screeches as the darkness covers him. In an attempt to silence him, a hand comes over Jack’s mouth. The other hand pins Jack’s hands to his back. There’s a hot breath on his ear.

“Please,” It speaks in a low voice. “Won’t you be quiet?” Jack doesn’t respond, but furrows his brows into a scowl to mask the panic.

In the distance, he can hear other voices. Urgent, desperate and sorrowful, they surround him and try to convince him about something.

“It’s not our fault-”

“We didn’t mean-”

“Have mercy on-”

“Forgive-”

“There was no way-”

“We are so sorry-”

“How could we have known-”

Then finally there was one last sentence before Jack was consumed.

 

“Give him back to us.”

 

Things go dark  
-◇-◈-◇-

His realization that he’s awake is as slow as the blinking of his eyes. They are closed with several deep breaths and then they open with a slight flutter. He’s exhausted even before he comes to his senses.

His back aches as he moves to sit up. The mattress is thin so the rocks on the ground jabbed into his back all night. It didn’t help that he was bruised and had several wounds along his back. None were lethal, but they cause him to wince.

He eventually does get to his feet. He stretches out with a yawn in his throat, but he doesn’t make a sound. He stops mid-stretch.

There are silent footsteps heading towards him. Faint, hardly noticeable. What is obvious is the guttural sharp breath nearby.

Jack freezes as the sound of a body crumpling to the ground follows. There’s another thud of another body hitting the ground. Jack lowers his arms and body to the floor in a crouch.

He tries to make as little noise as possible as he creeps towards the door flap. He grips at the edge and pulls it slightly forwards to peek out.

The darkness is suffocating and the lamps are hardly lit. The clearing is coated in a dark blue, sinister shade with figures rushing about. Most drop like flies as a black blur moves with silent feet forwards.

The dark figures try to fight with their raised spears against the blur, but it’s obvious they are no match. There are little fights here and there, but they only last seconds and the blur always reigns victorious.

The spray of blood is striking against the blue.

Jack clamps a hand over his mouth as quietly as possible to prevent a heave in his throat. He swallows the vomit coming up with a motion of disgust.

The blood trails towards him in a thin stream, edging closer in every second. It’s red, hot and keeps flowing, larger with every passing moment. It is fresh.

Jack catches the dead eyes of the person who the stream had once been inside of. Her eyes, once deep blue were now crystal, pale and devoid of life. She sits there, just staring onwards into a nothingness. Her face is stiff in an expression of fear.

Jack’s eyes widen as he catches sight of her unhinged, blood red jaw devoid of a chunk of flesh. Half her jaw had been cut while the rest remained attached to the rest of her body, yet the back of her head remained attached to her neck. It was as if the blur wanted to make this particular one suffer.

The blur stands nearby this body and hasn’t caught sight of Jack yet. He grins down at the dead warrior at his feet.

It’s a sickly grin with sharp white teeth, perfect and taken care of. The blur’s lips dripped with red. The smile enjoyed the setting.

Jack searches for another live person.

The blur begins to move onwards with the machete in their hands, dripping dark and stained with red and rust. It fits perfectly into their tight grip.

Jack begins to crawl back into his safe haven, but not before he does spot someone.

The Hunter stands with her spear in hand, eyeing the blur wearily. She looks like she expected his presence with her puffed out chest. She looks fierce and dangerous with her stance lowering as it got ready to lunge.

Before the blur notices her, she catches sight of Jack’s wide eyes. There’s a flash of panic in her face, but it calms as quickly as it flashed. She motions with her other hand for Jack to leave with a point in the opposite direction.

The blur notices the Hunter’s movements and turns to where she is looking with hungry eyes. They look eager and when Jack meets their eyes, they seemed satisfied. They start to move towards him and Jack almost yelps.

The Hunter is there in a flash and thrusts her spear forwards. The blur turns back to his opponent quickly and just out of the way. The spear barely nicks the blur and the Hunter audibly curses at them.

It’s the blur’s turn to launch an attack at the Hunter, but she has quick reflexes. Though she was once off-balance, she regains it and thrusts her spear outwards to protect herself. She shoves at the blur and the blur falls back on their heels.

The blur is back on their feet in a flash though. The blue blur of the Hunter and the unknown black blur rush about with a spear and machete dance too spectacular and too swift to follow completely. Jack lets his hand fall from his mouth in wonder.

Each move by the Hunter is a gorgeous counter, with twirling feet and fierce thrusts forwards. She earns jabs at the blur’s chest and even neck. She truly holds up a good fight.

The blur doesn’t tire. With every jab of the spear, with every injury, the blur comes back with a vengeance twice as powerful. Their face is fixated, undistracted and confident. They bide their time, never exhausting.

The Hunter can’t go on like that forever and eventually she breaks her concentration as she trips and goes off balance. The blur grins and cackles with celebration.

Jack audibly gasps as the machete cuts through in her chest, coming out the other side. The blur pulls upwards, refusing to take out the machete though. Blood pours out with a flood and her ribs are exposed. Chipped and bloody, they look like they’ll start cracking soon.

The blur reaches in and pulls at her ribs. This is the only thing keeping her from falling backwards. The Hunter screeches in protest, trying to wriggle free, but only causing the blur to tighten their grip. There is a sickening crack as the ribs begin to groan.

Finally, the rib falls apart, crumbling practically in his hands. The Hunter also crumbles to the ground. She’s alive, but she’s bleeding heavily now. The Hunter has only seconds to live.

Jack’s too afraid to make another noise or to bring attention to himself. He can only sit there and watch wide eyed as the blur moves onto to cut deeper into her body and into her guts.

They pull out a heart, still attached and beating weakly. They grin down at it in their rough hands and yank. The Hunter lets out a final defeated cry and her chest never rises again. The heart is dropped into a large black suitcase by the blur’s side.

Jack lets out a sharp gasp.

The blur locks eyes with Jack, freezing him into place. That sharp, white smile creeps back on and the blur rises to his feet.

As they advance, Jack leaps into action. He scrambles upwards, letting the flap drop and rushes to the back. Jack races out of the other flap as fast as he can manage.

His feet hardly touch the ground as he leaves the clearing. He can’t bring himself to stop or to be quieter. All he can hear is the slap of his feet on the stone and the heavy breathing coming from his mouth.

The blur moves noiselessly. Jack knows their back there though. He can feel it and even turns to try and confirm his prediction. The blur trails behind, machete pumping in one arm as the other one drips with fresh blood.

Jack runs a little faster.

There’s a cackle behind him.

“Yooou can’t ruuun foreverrr,” the voice sings in a sickening tune. It’s louder than Jack expected and he yelps, willing his feet to move faster.

There are turns in this dark, new part of the maze. Jack switches his path as often as he hopes that he can confuse the blur. He goes straight, then to the left, left again, right, left, right, right, right, forwards, left, forwards, right, left…

Jack burns. His legs feel like they are going to fall off. His head pounds with his heart beat in an anxiety state. He can barely see as his vision is filled with tears and dancing spots from lack of sleep.

His legs can’t take anymore and as he rounds one last corner, he collapses to the ground.

He’s engulfed by light. It burns his eyes at first, but with a few blinks he can see.

It’s sunny in this small square. Though it must be midnight, this is the only section that glows with natural light.

On his stomach, he can’t see much. But he does feel the warmth of rough stones on his face and tired body. He cries into them as the fear disappears in the sunlight.

When he’s done, he stands to his feet and looks around.

It looks like a king’s garden. With white stone benches and perfectly trimmed hedges. There are pockets of flowers around the edges close to the four openings into the pitch-black maze. In the middle stands a four tiered fountain with crystal water and pink lily flowers and lily pads.

Jack goes to the fountain to get as far away from the dark maze as he can.

Jack lowers himself to sit on the edge, peering into the little ripples and the plants. Everything is such a contrast to the dreariness and complexity of the rest of the maze. Jack even brings himself to smile as he dips a hand into the water.

He didn’t sleep enough. His eyes are droopy as he moves the water with his hands. He brings forth a yawn as he lifts his hand from the water. He wipes it on his shirt and looks down.

Jack stares into the water at his reflection. Despite it all, Jack remains recognizable. The reflection has sharp, alert blue eyes with slight circles underneath and a cut on its lip. It’s brown hair is messy, with a leaf or two in it, which Jack picks out.

In all, Jack has survived the Labyrinth so far with scarcely any changes. He’s relieved, enough so to let his eyes close with a grateful sigh.

As his eyes open they catch something lingering behind.

Dark eyes, dark hair and a clever smile peek just near his left shoulder. It’s an image of black, hardly recognizable as someone, but against the cool water this person is noticeable.

Jack tenses his breathing and straightens his back. The image moves closer to him and Jack swears he can feel a sickly breath on his neck.

Then like a flash, he turns around, leaning back too much. Jack falls into the fountain’s water with a splash. His head comes into contact with one of the tiers and he scrunches his eyes closed in pain. They quickly flash open and he looks around for the other person.

There’s no one there.

So now wet, miserable and with a pounding head, Jack gets out of this uncomfortable position. He grunts as he lifts himself onto the edge again and puts a hand to his head. It’s not bleeding, nor cut, but damn does it hurt more than ever. He curses the amount of tiers the fountain has.

But when he looks back to the fountain and into the water, he remembers the dark figure. A shudder goes through Jack’s body and he shuffles to his feet wearily.

His mind flashes to his once forgotten dream. He shivers in his now wet clothes and feels a sense of dread rise in his chest. He’s hyperventilating with the thought of a hand coming and yanking him away into that dark corridor. Or that one. Or that one. Or that one.

He looks around the clearing, trying to catch a hint of the direction the dark figure fled to. Jack’s not sure if he would attack it or would run from it if he caught a glimpse of the figure.

He can’t see anyone. With defeat, Jack lets out a groan and the flightiness of his heart lessens. All that rests on his chest is defeat and dread.


	3. Faded Music

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack is alone in a tiny square of comfort within a deep dark maze. He doesn't want to leave, but in the end, he must. There's something in him that this next corridor calls for and the darkness leads him to a ballroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been wanting to write this chapter since I started since some of it is based off of a dream with different characters. Ah! I hope you guys enjoy it ;)
> 
> Here's the waltz music: Here We Go by Jon Brion

Jack sits at the fountain as calmly as he can manage.

He tapped his fingers on the edge in a slow rhythm. His eyes gaze downwards to his feet, thankful for a short moment that he’s not barefoot like the other times he’s wandered too close to the Labyrinth.

He takes a shaky breath inwards with the thought of this place. No matter how long he spends in these walls and being in this reality, he can’t fully grasp the situation. His heart races.

So he’s not very calm really. He’s just a bundle of dread and anticipation that grows larger with every minute passing. The minutes are very slow, an eternity each at least. Yet his insecurity in these surroundings grows at an exponentially fast pace, blazing past the time passing.

There’s that feeling of eyes on his back and around him. He wants and expects someone to come forwards as these eyes. Jack wants to see the face of the person who has been staring down at him. He’s not sure what would happen, if he would punch this person, scream at them or maybe just turn and run. It doesn’t matter, Jack just wants to know.

God he wants to know anything and everything. Though he sits in the light of the sun, he feels as if he remains in the dark. He doesn’t know anymore than he used to about the Labyrinth. At least, not anything of importance to himself or why he’s here.

All he knows is someone is looking for him. Whether that person has answers or simply wants to use Jack is unknown. Jack isn’t sure if he wants to find out or not.

With every passing moment, the tension grows sharper. Jack keeps thinking he hears footsteps thudding towards him. They are slow, calculated and echo across the walls in every direction, as if an army of four army generals are about to attack. He can hear them in the back of his head. Thumping loud and clear.

He feels his heart jolt with every phantom step of non-existent shoes. He looks to his left, leaning towards that direction with squinted eyes. Then he turns to the right with the same posture and narrowed gaze. Then he’s on his feet, turning to his back. He’s trying to see someone in the shadows, but there’s no one.

He turns to peer at each of the corridor while standing close to the fountain and the middle of the room. They all remain pitch-black and devoid of life as they had earlier. They all are chasms that daunt Jack. Anyone could be out there. For all he knows, those footsteps still at the back of his head could be real and someone could be walking towards him in all directions.

He sits back down in a rush, his hands folded together. He shifts quickly, restlessly.

He goes back to tapping on the edge of the fountain nervously. It’s a random tune that doesn’t follow a pattern in anyway, but at least it’s attempting to ease himself. It’s only a distraction that he makes as complicated as possible to prevent his mind from wandering to deep, dark places of fear.

It also is keeping him awake. The tapping and paranoia keeps his eyes from fully drooping and falling into sleep. The sprinting took a lot out of his already exhausted and sore body.

Every time his eyes close more, Jack’s head shoots upwards in terror. He straightens his back and sits at attention, his beat stopping momentarily.

Eventually, he slouches forwards again, tapping aimlessly at the edge and his eyes droop. It’s a vicious cycle.

It repeats and repeats, lasting an hour or more. He barely is awake, barely is holding still and sways in his seat. His vision is blurred from lack of sleep or maybe some tears. He can’t see his hands, but he’s not sure if they are moving too slow or too fast. He looks down at them and sees they hang dead at his side.

His head drops and he runs shaky hands through his hair. He’s shaking in his seat and can feel the stare upon him. He can hear the footsteps in the back, edging closer with each passing second.

Suddenly he shoots onto his feet. He turns around, backing away from the fountain with wide eyes, trying to catch sight of something behind him.

He screams when his back hits one of the walls and he jumps away.

He trembles as his eyes rush around the bright area. He remains in place, just off from the center of the room with his arms hugging around him. His breath is so shallow and his skin is pale and hot with adrenaline and urge to run away.

Someone is seeing him doing this, someone is watching his every move. There’s a feeling of pity falling upon Jack like an attempt at a comforting blanket. Jack’s not sure what to think of it.

His breathing doesn’t slow, but with this aura resting around him of pity only makes him angry. His hands tighten around his body and his face fixes into a scowl. The anxiety in his chest tightens and refuses to slow, despite his efforts to close his eyes and relax. He just can’t seem to find peace in the Labyrinth.

He never had these issues before the Labyrinth.

With balled fists, Jack presses his hands into his cheeks and lets out a frustrated noise. His hands drop and though he’s still on edge, he seems to have calmed down for the most part.

He’s exhausted and it shows with the bloodshot look in his eyes and his slouching posture. He hasn’t been awake for long, he’s sure of that, but it feels like forever. How long had it been since he slept? How did time pass in the Labyrinth?

Impossible questions follow up, circling inside his head. It’s a lot to handle, but Jack lets out a shaky breath. He closes his eyes and lowers himself to the ground so he’s sitting just a few feet from the fountain. He scoots backwards so that his back is protected by the fountain and lets it relax for a moment against it.

He lifts his knees so they rest below his head. He sits without moving.

His breathing gets calmer and deeper as he holds his legs to his chest. It’s a hug almost, compressing and comforting while he tries to move past these fears and worries.

It’s all alright. He’s okay. He’s still fucking alive, so everything will be alright. It has to be.

Jack’s going to get out of this mess. He knows that it could be impossible, but if there’s a slight chance then he sure as hell will take it. For his family, for his kingdom, for himself; Jack will find a way out of the maze. At the very least, he will find answers about why he’s here.

His shoulders drop with this acceptance and realization. There’s even a small smile on his face as his breathing slows and his heart rate rocks back into a normal rhythm. He is okay.

Sure, he’s still scared as all hell. He knows that there’s something, someone, out there looking for him. It doesn’t matter though. So long as he believes he can make it through, he can do it or die trying.

He’ll get through this no matter what because he’s Jack. He’s the youngest of five royals in a kingdom that has a long, bloody and terrible history. He’s descended of warriors, captains and generals all with blood like iron and anger in their strong jawlines.

Jack may be small, he may not be the strongest, the toughest or the most warrior-like of his family. Jack may be terrified out of his mind in this very moment. He’s here though. He’s escaped two attempts on his life and one attempt on a kidnapping and it’s only been a short while.

Furthermore, he’s in the sunlight. If anyone wants to attack him, he’ll see them. He can take them if he tries.

Satisfied with these thoughts, Jack leans his head backwards so that it rests on the very edge of the fountain. He just sits there for a bit without moving or thinking. With closed eyes and calming breaths, Jack tries to shut off the world. He is successful.

-◇-◈-◇-

Jack wakes up with a level-head.

He feels relaxed with a small smile on his face. He lets out a tiny yawn, beginning to move his hand in front of his mouth to cover it. As he moves his hand, he finally feels something.

There’s a hand on his shoulder.

It’s not uncomfortable. It’s a kind gesture that a loved one might do to comfort someone after all. The hand was cool, but not so much so that it froze Jack’s insides. It was reassuring in an odd way. But there was a problem. Jack had no clue who the hand belonged to.

At first, Jack just sits there with a slightly raised hand and a slack jaw. He doesn’t want to move. He can feel his heart rising slightly, like it had earlier. He doesn’t want to try and calm himself down, no matter how fast it beats. He doesn’t want to move under the gaze of this person behind him.

So Jack lets the hand remain on his shoulder, gripping it in a protective and comforting manner.

Jack can’t help himself and shifts his shoulder as his hand drops to his side. His mouth closes slowly and he fights the urge to turn around.

The owner must have realized in that moment that Jack was uneasy because the hand slipped away. The touch slips from his shoulder and seems to dissolve away into air. Despite everything telling him to look behind, Jack makes no motion. The eyes behind still remain.

Jack can feel their gaze, strong and hurt. He doesn’t know how, because you can’t feel someone’s emotions when you aren’t even looking at them. Still, Jack shifts uncomfortably under the gaze. Eventually, that too fades into the air.

Jack pauses before getting to his feet. He just stares ahead in a daze, trying to understand what had just happened. He can’t move his own body for he’s too confused to make any effort. All he does is look ahead expressionlessly.

Finally, he blinks and his eyes narrow, emotion returning. He stands.

On his feet, Jack notices that the paths into the rest of the Labyrinth aren’t as dark as before. They are covered in the soft glow of familiar lamps.

He decides that it must be morning now since the Labyrinth seems to be awake again. This means that Jack had been able to sleep undisturbed the entire night. He’s relieved.

His entire body sags in a sigh of relief. The weight in his chest that he’d forgotten falls away. He’s so giddy, so overwhelmed and relieved, a small giggle escapes his mouth.

Was it hysteria playing on his lips? Had he finally lost it from just being in the Labyrinth for a couple days?

It might be even less than two days, Jack thinks to himself. He hadn’t been counting the amount of times the Labyrinth’s light had changed to mark the passing days. There wasn’t a clear-cut way to tell how much time had passed. Plus, did time pass differently in here than his kingdom, the Outside? Jack would have no way of knowing until he left the Labyrinth.

He decides that he will be leaving here. There’s no denying it. He looks to the four different exits with determination and a new surge of energy.

Even if he has to fight tooth and nail, Jack knows he will reach his home. He doesn’t care how long it will take, only that he reaches it. He doesn’t want to die in these walls.

Jack swallows and turns his full attention to the corridors branching off.

Each path is slightly different while all matching at the same time.

Each one has a path of cracked and weary stones with little weeds growing in the cracks. Their walls lead into the great unknown, all in several opposite directions that seem to go on forever into the mist. Besides that, they are all unique and distinguished.

The one to Jack’s left is lit by a mossy green lamp with a sickly glow. The walls are covered in dark, thin spider like vines. There are white flowers growing where the wall meets the ground in small bunches. There is a golden and green butterfly flapping in the air along the path and a large crab-spider like creature skittering on the ground towards the left wall. It begins to climb up with spindly long legs. It’s very quick.

The next one over is covered in a pale pink light with immaculately white marble walls. It has been recently swept and the grass between the stones is trimmed down. It’s tame, the only mysterious thing being the flower petals floating in the wind towards Jack from the mist. Jack steps closer and can feel the cool breeze on his face and feel the hazy moisture of the fog.

The next path has blue glowing lights that only pulsate slightly with a relaxed beat, like a slow drumming heartbeat. The walls are covered in a black current of tree roots that crawl in from the other side of the wall. There is the chatter of voices, both animals and humanoids, coming from the distance. These speakers are close enough to be heard but not close enough yet to be understood.

The last path’s ground is covered in dead, brown leaves. The air glows in an orange light like the gas lit lamps at home. The leaves aren’t from a known source for there are no trees nearby. They look like they have been there a long time for they have been tread on by large feet, crushing them to the ground. The rest of the path dips in between being visible and hidden by a black blanket.

Jack doesn’t know which to turn to. Instead of making a choice, he begins to spin in a circle, unconfident and awkward at first. Eventually, he brings himself to spin faster, to laugh a little as he stumbles on his feet that get away from him.

When he stops, he’s dizzy and can’t see anything clearly. The first path that his eyes land on would be what he travels upon. His eyes open.

Dead leaves catch his eyes and he is slightly unnerved. The darkness is beckoning in an all too familiar feeling. He begins to walk forwards, but stops short just in front of the border and into the darkness.

Suddenly, he feels something in his gut as he stares back at the fountain and natural light. The air is warm, but there’s a calm wind going through it. It’s not enough to be a breeze, but just enough to make the air bearable to breath in. Jack finds himself wishing he could stay here and forget everything.

But his stomach growls, driving his attention away. He can’t waste away here. He needs to find food and a way out. The only way is forward. Jack must be brave, no matter how much he wishes to give up.

Jack’s not a coward who would rather die than go back into the Labyrinth.

Without another look back, Jack sets off on his journey. He walks with semi-confident steps forwards, passing the lamp and plunging into the darkness beyond where can barely see the next bit of light in the distance. He regrets his decision to go down this path, but he pushes forwards.

When he looks back for a second, the Labyrinth has already blocked the way back with a moving wall that shifted into place. He’s surprised, but not entirely.

The path is a darker shift compared to the sunny checkpoint, but it is not unbearable. There aren’t just lamp lights, the darkness grows softer with the emergence of glowing bugs. They aren’t fireflies, they’re much too big and lazy to be as they climb the walls and fly in the air. Jack is thankful that they keep a slight distance from him. They are enough to provide a soft orange tint to the pathway to go along with the dim lamps.

Jack walks down with a slightly quickened pace, though he doesn’t know where he’s going. It’s straight forwards, he hasn’t run into a fork in the road. It seems like the path goes on forever.

As he continues it also grows darker. The walls change to ones that are wooden and sleek. The sky goes from black, to dark brown and there’s a roof emerging above his head. The glowing bugs dwindle in numbers until they disappear altogether. The lamps become infused into the wall and stop pulsating. They’re still dim, but at least they are closer together and don’t blink off and on.

The air grows more stagnant too. It’s stuffier and muskier, as if the room hadn’t been fanned out in a long while. Jack feels as if he can’t properly breath and wonders if he can still go back and choose another path. He remembers the blocked wall and clicks his tongue.

He bits his lip harder with each step. The hallway is getting more regal and sophisticated with each step forwards. It as if he were travelling in a five star hotel or in the walls of a neighboring castle.

There is now golden trimming along the edges where the walls meet the floor and ceiling. The lights are getting a bit brighter and the ground is smooth stone without weeds or leaves littering about. No, here there is no dust, dirt, or any sort of outdoor natural items. Everything is collected, uptight and elegant.

Jack feels highly uncomfortable.

It’s too much like home. There’s a pit in his chest as he gazes around. The hallway goes on and on and so Jack’s pit grows larger the farther he goes. He just can’t help but feel as if he shouldn’t be in here.

He’s been to another castle once to visit and make alliances with his father and his eldest sister. The only purpose being to learn a bit about running and maintaining a kingdom. It was a bad idea, but his mother had insisted and a few of their advisors had agreed, though there was a hesitation to let the rambunctious teenage prince out of the castle.

But Jack had insisted upon the fact, jumping on the idea that he would get to leave the castle. He hadn’t been allowed to leave often, never mind the fact that he’d never left the kingdom before. His brothers and sisters were always talking about oceans, deserts and great grassy plains that Jack had never seen in person. He wanted to see it all.

So his mother smiled and his father eventually caved in. His eldest sister scoffed slightly, but ruffled his hair and said she’d help him back his things.

It had been a long trip and when they reached the other kingdom, Jack’s excitement faltered only slightly. The castle looked similar to his.

No matter, the trio travelled in and were greeted by new people, new sights, new smells and new customs. Jack was overwhelmed but giddy with excitement.

That all changed when the meeting finally began and Jack was told to wait outside the throne room with the guards. He still wasn’t old enough to sit in on the conference with his sister and father.

He had gotten bored easily. The watchful eyes of the guards stationed nearby grew tired and careless, so Jack jumped upon that opportunity. He slipped away and began to wander around the inside of the castle.

At the age of fifteen, he still lacked a sense of responsibility or a willingness to follow his parents’ orders. Despite the stern look that his father had given Jack when he saide to stay put, Jack ignored the possible consequences. He went out on his own.

He got lost easily.

It wasn’t until a soldier began to shout and chase Jack down a hallway that he realized that he had been travelling too close to the local crown jewels. He didn’t know the castle well enough to make any smart turns or proper decisions on where to escape to. It was all just a flurried panic and Jack was terrified what would happen if he was caught.

When the soldier finally caught him by the arm, he was almost thrown into a cell or beaten to a bloody pulp. Thankfully, someone had called off the guard with a sharp, irritated command. The captain came to Jack to escort him back to the throne room, her voice a low grumble as she kept a hand on Jack’s back. Jack was thankful that she had recognized him from earlier or he would’ve ruined everything for his kingdom and father.

Jack arrived to the throne room without a scratch and met his disappointed father there. Thankfully, the other king hadn’t minded and the rest of the visit went smoothly.

When the family got home, Jack’s father had lectured him relentlessly and he had been under room arrest for three days where he was only allowed to study and the only person he saw was his tutor. It was tedious, but hardly Jack’s worst punishment.

Jack is so lost in memory that he walks straight into a wall.

His nose hits the wall hard with a thud. Jack grimaces and rubs at his now sore nose. It’s not broken at least.

He backs away from the wall, turning to his left. He catches sight of a door down another stretch of hallway. His interest builds and he starts to move towards it. His eager eyes never leaving the first door he’s seen since he entered the Labyrinth.

Why here? Why only one? Jack doesn’t know, but he wants to find out. His eyes are lit with curiosity and he reaches out for the handle.

It’s smooth and consistently cleaned. It hasn’t rusted over so it still shines. It fits into Jack’s hand easily and he even finds himself smiling. It feels right for him to tug it open. But it doesn’t open.

Strange. This all felt right. Jack gives it another tug, but the door refuses to budge. He even tries to push, thinking that he just was doing it all wrong, but nothing happens. The door is stubborn, to say the least.

Jack grumbles and steps away from it for a moment. He stares forwards.

He can’t explain it, but there’s a feeling deep in his gut. There’s an impulse within Jack that tells him to barge through and his answers will be found. He’s not sure how or why, but it’s there. He trusts his gut because so far it hasn’t proved him too wrong. He hasn’t died yet from trusting his gut.

Jack lets his back fall against the door. He leans for a moment, resting his head against it and then letting his eyes slide close. He breaths in and out steadily.

So close, and once again everything was pulled out from under him. He just wants to reach answers. He just wants to know what the fuck is going on. Here he is. There is yet another door in his face. Only difference is this time it is physical and literal.

He groans once more and slides downwards so he’s resting on his feet in a crouched position. He leans over his knees and stares ahead. Now he knows he’ll have to turn back soon and find another exit. The path may be blocked, but there must be another way.

If not, he could climb the walls.

Jack uses the ground in front of him to get to his feet. There’s a grumble in his throat as the thought of climbing a smooth, impossible surface. It could be done, but it would take effort that Jack didn’t want to give.

At that exact moment, the door creaks.

Jack turns around and he relaxes. Not bothering to wonder why it had opened at that moment, he simply walks through the doorway. He’s smiling.

The door closes with a soft thud and suddenly Jack realizes what he’s done. He just walked into this dark, musky and mysterious room blindly without a second thought. He had blindly trusted that everything would be alright in this complex Labyrinth that has proven otherwise multiple times. Jack is cursing at himself silently.

He can hardly see a few yards ahead of him because there is only one lamp lying close to the door. Besides that, there is no other light source. He concludes then that he’s alone. If there were more people, more lights would be on. He hopes he’s alone.

He doesn’t want to wander further into the room and leave the safety of sight. He squints forwards, as if that would help him see anything beyond. Nothing. There’s nothing that catches his attention right away.

Then suddenly, something out there does. There’s a twitch and the darkness reveals the silhouette of a humanoid creature nearby. Jack has the urge to call out to it.

The creature doesn’t need to be called over though because it twitches again, turning its attention to Jack. Though he can’t see it, Jack’s sure that the creature’s eyes lock onto him. Jack gulps as the twitching figure shakes some more as it hobbles over.

As it gets closer, the first thing Jack notices are the eyes that begin to glow in the darkness. They are owl-like, large and with a black slit in the middle. They are a yellow mixed with a poison green. They glare into Jack’s soul like everything in this maze and tear him apart. Jack feels more like prey than a person.

Jack sees it’s hunched back. There are feathers bursting all over any part of its body that’s not covered by a thick robe. It twitches in the full light as if it were clockwork with stuck and rusted gears.

“Good day,” the creature greets Jack. It has a hollow voice that is deep and husky. It twitches, folding out a wing for Jack to shake. He doesn’t.

In the light, the creature looks dusty, unused. It keeps shuddering and moving its feet back and forth, like a restless clockwork machine. It doesn’t seem to be a nervous habit, but something unable to be controlled. It’s a him most likely, Jack decides. The creature has a strong build alike to an old man who once was a grand warrior.

“Hi…” Jack responds with an unsure wave. The owl-creature gives him a grin, as best as he can with that beak. The wing lowers with a shudder.

The owl refuses to say anymore and just stares and twitches some more. It’s distracting and haunting with each step it moves closer to Jack, with each shudder. It’s eyes twitch wide, narrow and even closed, but they always flash open and lock onto Jack’s location.

Jack didn’t realize he was backing up until his back hits the door. He’s looking up at the owl who stands nearby, just a head taller. Jack gulps.

The owl refuses to speak again, but does stop moving forwards when he stands directly above. He looks down at Jack who quivers and quakes in fear.

There’s a hint of a smile gracing the owl’s beak and he takes a deep breath in, eyelids fluttering. He seems to be enjoying himself when his eyes flash open and his mouth opens in a pleased gasp.

Jack shifts uncomfortably and wonders if he can make a break for it into the darkness.

With speed as quick as he can manage, Jack attempts to duck under one of the owl’s wings and race forwards into the dark. Like a slowed-down rocket, he bursts away.

The owl has fast reflexes and simply reaches out to catch Jack’s shirt collar before he can make it past his wing. The owl pulls him back sharply with a yelp and to the door once more. Jack slumps against it, loosing balance and falling. He shuffles up to his feet, without looking up at the owl.

It isn’t until the owl clears his throat that Jack lets his face turn upwards.

The owl leans its wings against the door so that he peers down at Jack from above, almost blocking out the light completely. Jack moves a hand over his eyes to block the blaring lamp light shrouding the owl’s back in light, creating a ghostly halo.

“You are eager to continue princeling,” He mentions with amusement in his voice. Jack doesn’t respond, but is surprised by the causality in the owl’s gruff voice.

“It is best to not go rushing into the unknown, yes?” The owl flashes Jack a closed beak smile. “It is better to bide time and understand than rush about it all at once without weighing options.” Jack finds himself nodding, thinking back to his entrance into the Labyrinth solemnly.

“Yes,” The owl continues. “If you had rushed forwards, I would not be able to help you. You would die. There’s no doubt in my mind that you would die out there alone.”

“Good thing you’re here,” Jack finds his voice leaving him with sarcasm. He’s not sure how he can find the confidence to challenge this twitching owl, but he does. The owl twitches its eyes closed and open quicker than what’s possible or natural. Jack’s not sure if he’s agitated or not.

The owl parts and motions for Jack to continue onwards into the dark. Jack does as he’s told.

No matter how happy he is to leave this odd owl, he can’t feel that this is too easy. It’s odd and uncertain. Jack looks back.

The owl’s body stares towards the doors. When Jack turns his head to look back, the owl’s head turns around completely to stare into Jack. Jack can’t help but gulp with fear and turn back to the darkness without another thought.

“Do not eat anything,” The owl warns in a distant voice as Jack begins to leave the ring of light and the end of his line of sight. Jack turns back.

“Why?” Jack questions. “That sounds stupid.” His stomach, which he had forgotten, groaned in agreement.

The owl looks directly into Jack’s face with these large, unblinking eyes. He’s not searching for anything, just gazing in disappointment. He clicks his tongue against his beak and looks away.

“You must not eat anything,” The owl repeats himself. Jack crosses his arms, irritated.

“Why?” Jack repeats himself also. “And why should I listen to you?”

“This is not the time nor place,” The owl warns Jack. “If you wish to survive-”

“Survive what?” Jack cries in outrage, throwing his hands upwards. “I’ve fuckin’ had it with this maze and it’s fuckin’ secrets! Just give me a god damn straight answer by jaysus!” His arms lower with a slap at his side and he gives the owl a look. Widened eyes and pursed lips convey the message that Jack is at his breaking point.

The owl stares on without emotion towards Jack. He’s taken a step or two forwards so that he’s covered in more shadows. His eyes glow in the darkness like the lamps in the path, except a more vibrant shade.

Jack scoffs and begins to leave.

Suddenly there is a rush of air by Jack’s side and someone is pushing him backwards quickly. Jack falls to the ground with surprise rising through his throat. He falls onto his ass with a thud and yelp.

“If you will not heed my warning,” The owl explains as he lowers to meet Jack’s face. He gets too close and Jack’s eyes are only inches from the owl’s beak. “You will be killed. By me or the monster inside.”

“But…” Jack begins to protest, but is quickly quieted by the sudden hacking of the owl.

Jack watches with interest as the owl turns away and keels over, clutching his stomach. He hacks and coughs with wheezes in his voice until something spills out in a chunk. Jack audibly gags as the slimy thing hits the floor with a slap.

When Jack turns back to the owl, he is picking up the mush of something. It’s wetter than a normal owl pellet, but it’s clearly some dead mammal that the owl had eaten. Jack gags and turns his shoulder from the owl once more.

Eventually, he sees from the corner of his eye the owl holding something out towards him. Jack dares to turn.

“What’s that?” Jack asks curiously as he looks at the thin vial within the feathers of the owl. The owl grins as well as he can.

“Protection,” He assures Jack. The lightness in his eyes and beak fell and the room darkens even more. “You are to drink this directly after you consume something at the table.” There’s a pause as the owl’s arm twitches. “If you are to eat, you must drink this.” He holds out the vial firmly, but Jack’s hesitant to take it.

“What does it taste like?” Jack wonders.

“It is very…unpleasant,” The owl answers honeslty. “But worth it. Better than…death.” The gaze in the owl’s eyes is uncomforting, but Jack still takes the vial.

His face curls back in disgust at the moistness on it. He wipes the spittle from it with his ruined nightshirt and it’s slightly better.

“Thank you,” He smiles back up at the owl. The owl’s still there, wings crossed behind his back and a dangerously knowledgable look in his face. His gaze twitches with a sickening grin.

Jack begins to walk past the owl, wandering into the darkness beyond.

“Hurry,” The owl tells him. “Someone’s expecting you.” Jack pauses to look back at the owl in confusion.

“Wh-” He starts to ask, but the owl is nowhere to be seen. Only darkness behind that covers whatever path the owl might have disappeared into. He’s gone as if he was never there.

Jack shivers, suddenly realizing he is completely alone in this large space. Despite how odd the other creature was, Jack wishes that someone, anyone was near him.

He clutches the vial to his chest tightly and walks forwards with cautious motions. His chest is tight with anxiety and each step is small and unsure. The darkness begins to fade into a lighter color with each closer step, until Jack is able to see the entire room.

It’s huge. Jack is walking in a ballroom meant for kings with large arches and sophisticated taste.

The room is dark golden with a polished floor and intricate ceiling of deep chocolates and wooden shades. The walls are dark with polished gold embedded into the flourishing flower patterns. There are no windows so the only light is the large crystal chandelier above in the middle of the floor and the few lamps towards the edges that are embedded into the wall.

It’s big and empty. There are no chairs near the side, nor waiters or dancers to be seen. At least, Jack thinks this until his eyes fall upon a table in the opposite direction to where he is.

It’s large and covered in plates of food, steaming and freshly made. Jack’s mouth waters as he catches sight of roast beef, baked potatoes, roasted corn, whole chicken, apple cinnamon pie and more plates that are piled onto the surface. There is barely enough room upon the white lace tablecloth for all the platters.

Jack’s steps grow quicker towards a definite direction. For the first time in the Labyrinth, Jack has a known purpose. His goal: to eat anything and everything he can until he is satisfied.

With this in mind, it’s odd that he stops short. When he reaches the middle of the dance floor, he just stops. There’s something very wrong, he realizes, with this predicament.

Why are there randomly placed food items in this room? He looks down at his vial. He didn’t trust the owl, but he didn’t trust the food either. Everything seemed fishy, and not just because of that deliciously smelling sea bass over there. Something was wrong.

He slips the vial into his pocket as he turns awkwardly around on the floor, scanning the room for things that he might have missed. There’s nothing to be seen.

He stops and Jack stands in the middle of the floor, arms folded across his chest in slight frustration. There’s a huff in his chest and disappointment rising upwards. Hadn’t the owl said someone was expecting him?

Jack doesn’t really want to see anyone. Jack just feels bored and even if he has to run for his life, at least he’s doing something and following what he expects from the maze. But this? This is entirely odd. There’s shelter, there’s food and there’s an odd something about this place that reminds Jack of a distant land outside of the Labyrinth.

Then Jack understands why it feels so homely as he begins to notice something playing lightly, faintly. There is the faint tune of a familiar song. It’s pleasant.

Jack finds himself relaxing when he fully notices the music. The more he relaxes, the louder it plays. The louder it plays, the more Jack lets go and relaxes. Eventually, he’s closing his eyes and peacefully swaying to something in his distant memory, something from home.

He can’t place his finger on when the soft piano, violin and various other instruments remind him of. They remind him of the castle walls he wandered as a child. It reminds him of the days in his room with a book or laughing with Ethan or following his siblings around.

Childhood. The music is his childhood. When he thinks of this simpler time, his feet move on their own.

Soon, Jack is dancing about as if he were alone in his room. He twirls around, his footwork messy, his arms all over the place; he doesn’t care how he looks or what he does, he’s enjoying himself. He lets out a small laugh as he loses his balance and almost falls over. He steadies himself with two arms outstretched and opens his bright eyes.

He lets his arms fall and he listens to the music for a moment. The song has shifted to another recognized tune. If the last one was his childhood, this was his teenage years.

It’s a waltz song, something he typically would sneer at when forced to listen to. This time his eyes shift to a close and he finds himself giving an exaggerated bow to no one in particular. He holds out his hands into the air and begins to waltz with no one but himself.

He doesn’t care that he lacks a partner. After all, he is slightly too clumsy to successfully dance with one anyway. Though his parents tried to get him lessons for extra help, Jack didn’t care to correct his wrong form or to be more graceful. Eventually, they gave up.

Jack’s gotten better since then, but he still lacks the perfect footsteps or technique to spin another person around. He doesn’t care as he twirls himself around the room. Over and over and over again, until he is spinning slightly out of control. He travels around the ballroom with closed eyes and a grin on his face, despite losing his balance once more and almost falling to the ground.

He’s caught by a pair of arms that pull him upwards and into place as if nothing had happened. Jack almost doesn’t notice the shift in dancing as the two different people begin to waltz together.

The other person takes the lead, clearly knowing what their doing more than Jack. Confident, graceful steps lead onwards and Jack follows diligently, trying to keep up and match their poise.  
The person has a strong grip, but is gentle with cool and calm palms. There’s something assuring in the way he holds onto Jack.

When Jack feels the other person begin to turn him is when his eyes flash open. He’s being forced away and then comes back with widened, realizing eyes.

Jack can’t tell who this stranger is. He’s a man dressed in darkness, matching the shadows lining the room. With dark hair, dark eyes covered by a black masquerade mask, he is shrouded in mystery like the rest of the Labyrinth. He does have a kind, sort of smile on his serious and longing gaze captured in that stoic jaw.

He’s attractive to say the least.

Jack however, is taken back by this stranger holding him so close. He wiggles his sweaty palm in the stranger’s hand and goes to move his other arm away from the stranger. The stranger’s grip grows stronger, almost enough to crush Jack.

All the while, their feet travel along in perfect rhythm. Jack’s feet don’t trip over or fall, knowing the steps even when Jack doesn’t. This stranger is an elegant dancer. With poise in every move and motion he does. He spins Jack multiple times, each one with more skill and smoothness.

Jack doesn’t struggle anymore. He enjoys the moment, unsure how long it will last.

He can’t help but stare up at the guy. He’s only an inch or so taller than him, but the height seems to make a sharp difference. The stranger holds himself in a tall, confident manner above Jack. He seems to be someone of noble stature, if not royalty himself.

Why is he dancing with Jack at this very moment in this dark, dark room? If he is in fact royalty, why is he with Jack, an outsider that someone so high up has no business to know about? Why is this all happening?

The stranger notices Jack’s curiosity for the first time with a blink and the stranger’s mouth opens into a smile to reveal pearly white teeth. The grin sends a chill down Jack’s spine.

They move with sharp elegance as one unit. Jack’s dirty and tattered nightshirt catching the wind while the stranger’s dark cape flies behind like a dark sail. It’s in that moment that Jack turns red.

He’s dressed in his nightclothes with a stranger, a man to add to the indecency. What would his parents say if they were here.

His parents. Jack tries to stop when he feels that guttural pain in his chest when the thought crosses his mind. They should be worried sick by now and would’ve been notified of Jack’s absence.

But Jack can’t stop dancing. Though his mind commands no, his body says yes. He even moves closer to the dark stranger, for some reason desiring to be closer. The stranger’s smile grows and remains large.

Jack can’t think too hard. He’s infatuated with the stranger in this moment. The music begins to fade out. The two finally stop moving and Jack breathlessly stares into the stranger’s eyes. All Jack can hear is the warm breath in his hair coming from the man standing only inches away from him.

They stand closer than when they danced, their bodies touching. Jack can feel the steady rise and fall of the stranger’s chest against his. Jack’s heart is beginning to increase in speed.

He feels too hot under this stranger’s stare and the way that his head is lowering closer to Jack’s. The way he looks like he’s about to try to touch Jack’s face with his own.

Jack wills his body to move away, but he’s doing it too fast. He cries out as he falls backwards once more and onto his shoulder with another thud.

“Fuckin’ clumsy-ass son of a bitch with two mother-fuckin’ duck’s feet glued to his own!” he says to no one in particular. It’s a hush under his breath. He hopes no one heard, but there’s a bit of benevolent laughter from behind. Jack’s head shoots in that direction.

The stranger’s demeanor has cracked slightly from the stoic mystery to a goofy, identifiable laughter. It rises and falls in an odd way that’s warm and personal. It makes Jack’s face split into his own smile. His embarrassment and flushed cheeks begin to disappear as the stranger’s face lights up underneath the dark mask.

The two stay there with smiles on their faces, giggling only slightly at Jack’s clumsiness. Finally, a hand is offered forwards. Jack takes it without thinking and is hoisted up.

Jack’s hand is brought to the stranger’s mouth before he can pull away. A delicate kiss is placed upon the back and the stranger looks back at Jack. Jack’s face flushes a soft rose pink.

The stranger’s mouth grows into another soft smile and looks as if he wants to grow closer.

Jack draws his hand away when the stranger begins to straighten up and the smile falls slightly. The stranger doesn’t come forwards and Jack makes no move to shorten the space between the two.

The stranger lets out a sigh, but there’s a hopeful look in his stare upon Jack.

“Farewell,” leaves his lips quickly and Jack can barely catch it. The stranger’s voice is as smooth, deep and alluring as his looks. Jack watches as the darkness consumes the dark stranger. Jack stands there stupidly in awestruck, leaning against the table of food.

He needs a movement.

Fuck.


	4. The Feast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack is left breathless after the stranger leaves. However, he returns to reality as his stomach begins to growl and he wonders how he's going to escape the Labyrinth. His eyes rest then upon the table at his back and all that matters is food.

Fuck.

His heart is going a mile a minute.

Fuck.

To be honest, he doesn’t really know how he feels at this exact moment. As his hands lay on the top of the table and he stares up, he can’t wrap his mind around anything.

Fuck a duck.

Well not really because beastality is not fun. He’d never do anything like that because that’s stupid and ridiculous and god why doesn’t he just shut up right about now? Why can’t he shut off his mind from thinking up crazy, stupid and impossible things like this. Why is his mind wandering all over the place so he can’t focus on any single thought? Everything is just a jumble.

Jack’s hands are sweating into the tablecloth as he grips it. His head stares up ahead and his mind wanders along in thousands of emotions.

He’s terrified. He’s so scared of who that stranger was.

How did the stranger know that Jack would be here in this very room?

Had he been tracking Jack’s every move in the maze?

Was he the haunting smile that Jack sometimes saw in the dark, the eyes that were always watching?

Had he been in charge of the darkness calling out to Jack at every waking moment and beckoning him into the walls?

Had he brought Jack into the Labyrinth?

 

Jack feels a chill go down his spine and he bounces off the table. He hugs his body, trying to slow his heartbeat but it only moved faster. He tries to squeeze his body together tighter, hoping to suppress the beating. Now the pounding is the only thing he can hear in his ears.

Jack lets go with a sharp intake of breath.

Because Jack also feels something else with him when he danced with the dark stranger.

There was something familiar. There was something comforting in those dark, staring eyes. The way that the stranger danced, the way he laughed and helped Jack from the ground was like being hit by a bolt of lightning. He feels the need to get closer to the stranger, like how he couldn’t stop dancing in the moment.

Jack can’t help but want to see that stranger again.

These thoughts and so, oh so, many more float in his head. His thoughts are like birds, circling and dive bombing at his attention. There’s a headache beginning to form with each new impact from the different thought.

His head falls. Soon his body caves in too and Jack feels himself crawl to the ground. His body is so very heavy. He curls into a ball underneath the nearby table. He squeezes his eyes shut in confusion.

Jack has never been good at dealing with complex emotions. He had his fair share of them as a child, but he never could wrap his mind around how to deal with them. He loved being happy, being carefree and wonderful. He felt like he could float away as a kid.

Everything changed on his sixteenth birthday. This is when those night wanderings had started. Ever since then, he had been suppressing these complex feelings that began to creep into his everyday life.

Sitting on the ground of the ballroom, Jack doesn’t know what he was doing.

Sitting on the ground, he begins to cry into his knees. All of this is too much for him and he can’t help it.

Sitting on the ground, he hates how much he’s cried in the last hour. He wipes his eyes with a shaky hand covered by a sleeve. His lip quivers and his sobs are mostly silent, but they still echo and bounce around in the quiet room.

Sitting on the ground, Jack can’t help but feel tiny in the dim light. He squeezes his knees closer to his chest. His tears fall quietly and his mouth closes in a dull sort of acceptance.

The darkness sits nearby watching him.

Jack’s not sure whether to feel comforted by someone else near him. Jack knows no one’s there, but as stares into the darkness, he can only see the stranger’s eyes. Jack can only remember the way they looked into him as they danced elegantly, sweeping the floor.

His wet cheeks blush pink and his eyes focus onto his knees instead. Moments pass as he holds his breath, hoping that the feeling of being watched will fade away. It never does.

In defeat, Jack’s head leans back against a leg of the table, his eyes are now closed.

Despite not seeing anything, Jack swears he can feel the darkness scoot forwards. There’s an aura of curiosity and hesitation in the stranger’s actions that Jack instantly picks up. Jack wants to shift in his seat with discomfort.

However Jack doesn’t move. He never shifts, even as he feels a cold breath near his cheek. Jack wonders how close the darkness will get before he breaks away.

The stranger grows closer, darkness covering Jack’s eyelids. There’s a breath so very close to his cheeks and Jack can feel someone’s chest leaning against his knees.

Yet, the stranger’s lips never try to touch Jack’s face unlike earlier. Jack knows he has them, Jack can feel a cool breath directly in front of him. The stranger’s hands just move towards Jack’s, reaching out to hold them. Jack almost lets him.

Jack sneezes.

The darkness crawls back suddenly. The odd mix of the warmth, despite the how cold the body was, pressed against him leaves.

Jack’s eyes blink open and the room looks lighter. He blinks in confusion for a moment.

Was that the very same stranger from earlier? The man with a hidden face and royal air about him?

Or were there more strangers in the maze that had taken an interest to Jack?

 

That thought makes Jack feel dirty and he feels a shiver travel up his back. He hugs his arms again, his breathing slowing, but not by much. His mouth is parched and he can only stare ahead with an unfocused gaze.

The growl of his stomach breaks away his daze. The sharp sound and pain in Jack’s stomach causes him to groan and rise to his feet. His mouth is dry, thirsty. He leans against the table in thought.

Jack’s hands hit cold metal. His eyebrows furrow in confusion and he looks down. His right hand rests upon a couple of utensils and a linen napkin.

Jack turns around completely and his eyes widen. In the last events, he had forgotten why the table was there. The smells come flooding back to him and his mouth waters. He feels his hand reaching out to grab something, anything that lays before him. His parched mouth is suddenly full of drool, some that even trickles slightly out of the corner of his mouth.

His eyes skitter across the various platters, each with their own delicacy. They all seem to call out to be eaten with their pristine and mouthwatering displays. There are baskets of buttered, fresh-out-of-the-oven baguettes, savory pork buns still sizzling, chocolate pudding with whipped cream and a small cherry and there even is a whole turkey nearby with with golden skin. There are even more, but Jack’s eyes can’t take it all in at once. It’s overwhelming. All of these platters could feel a whole army.

Jack is so hungry, yet his hand doesn’t reach out to grab anything. At the back of his head, there’s a voice warning him to stop. His stomach growls once again.

He pushes down the voice and reaches for one of the turkey legs. He pulls it off effortlessly, watching the juices fall off the exposed dark meat. The meat steams in his hand, guiding the appetising aroma to his nose.

Jack couldn’t stop himself from taking a big bite, almost a quarter of the leg. He chews and reaches for a goblet of water. He chugs it and goes in for another bite. It’s just as good as the first and Jack finishes the leg in no time. He reaches out for a pork bun.

He can’t stop eating. He finishes the pork bun in a matter of minutes and moves onto a piece of bread, a sliver of a cherry pie, an ear of corn and anything easily accessible. He’s an endless chasm demanding to be fed.

And then he stops suddenly. There’s a chill that falls down his spine as he swallows a grape in his mouth. He gulps and he finds his breath has returned to its shaking state once more.

Something is so entirely wrong about this whole situation. Jack wonders why the table is here in the first place. The stranger didn’t stay for dinner for a reason, most likely.

Jack lowers his hand away from the next grape he was about to pick. It falls to his side in defeat and he looks down at the table cloth. Jack rubs the back of his neck while biting his lip.

“What the fuck is wrong with this place…” He murmurs to himself as his hand drops. He folds his arms over his chest and stares intensely at the centerpiece of chocolate strawberries. He contemplates whether he should just grab one or if he should be cautious and ask himself the purpose of this table being here.

His mouth is still watering, but instead of reaching for food, he takes a nearby goblet. He doesn’t question what’s in it as he learns that he’s thirsty.

Jack lifts the golden glass to his mouth and drinks up the liquid inside. He doesn’t recognize the taste, but like alcohol it makes his chest feel warm, golden. Satisfied, he lowers it back onto the table. His heart rate cools down and his fearful gaze softens to one that’s less intense. He feels a sense of tranquility placed upon him.

Suddenly, he hears a creak and his whole body turns around, stepping back against the table as he does so.

His breath is caught in his throat. He lets out an ear-piercing scream, dropping the glass in surprise. It shatters across the floor in a thousand slivers of glass. Jack doesn’t react, only stares ahead.

Two slits of green eyes glare into Jack’s skull, glittering with a glint of aggression. They are dull, devoid of life. Instead, they are filled with rage to replace any soul that should’ve been there.

The lights around the creature are faded, ugly and dark so that they cast it into a frightening shadow. Jack can’t make out specific details until it edges closer to him.

There’s an odd noise coming towards it as Jack feels sweat trickle down his forehead. The creature’s lips are drawn back in a sneer, exposing long canines like needles. A noise like nails on a chalkboard and cackling come from its cruel grin.

Most of its body is pale and grey in the dim light. The areas that aren’t pale are exposed muscle bits where the skin has been ripped away or burned away. These parts are bright scarlet, as if newly uncovered. Yet, there is no blood trickling down its arms or other parts and the rest of the body looks mostly untouched.

It’s hunched over so that it’s spinal cord bulges out of it’s body in a twisted ridge. The entire body itself is twisted oddly with a thin skeleton body and yet a bulging stomach.

It’s hands are twisted into long black claws so that the nails and fingers become one. The fingers simply end in points and are stained with dry, red droplets. No doubt blood.

Jack swallows and shrinks closer to the table, hoping that those green eyes were just staring ahead, not fully fixed yet.

However, as he does so the creature glides closer to him. It’s wolf-like snout inches forwards, sniffing the air menacingly and edging closer to Jack’s shaking figure. There’s an evil snarl on its lips.

In the rush of this moment, Jack reaches behind him and launches a pie into it’s face.

It was a good, impulsive idea in the moment. The pie hits with a squish, lodging itself completely into the creature.

Jack uses this time to run out of its line of sight. He sprints past the creature, glass lodging into his shoes. He rushes towards the other side of the room, looking back the entire time to see if the creature would pursue him.

Jack then stops in the middle as he remembers something important. His breath hitches upwards. It’s exhilarated with the fuzz of the drink and the adrenaline pumping in his system so he finds it difficult to breath normally again. He fumbles in his pocket until his hand meets the cool glass of a vial.

He lets out a relieved noise and brings it out.

There’s a roar of anger that shakes the entire room. Belated, but still as frightening, the creature comes to life again. Jack yelps in surprise, letting the vial fall from his hands.

The creature is already upon Jack.

It launches with outstretched claws towards Jack’s widened blue eyes. Jack screams once again and backs away with quickened steps, hands raised in surrender. His steps are fast and he stumbles along in an attempt to keep eyes on the twitching, ready to pounce creature eyeing him dangerously.

Drool drips from the needle mouth onto the floor. It seems that Jack isn’t the only one hungry in the ballroom. Jack doesn’t care. He just bolts.

The creature wasn’t expecting that, so it takes a moment to realize that it’s food is making an attempt to break away.

Jack rushes to the walls. Though it's dark, the skylight above provides some light. Funny. Jack hadn’t noticed there was a skylight at all when he first entered. Maybe it was only opened after the stranger left.

Jack reaches a wall and the stranger is still on his mind. This guy dressed in all black is all Jack can think of. Even in certain peril, his mind wanders in curiosity towards the mysterious man. The curiosity turns to anger when he glances over his shoulder briefly. He returns to glaring at the wall.

God dammit why isn’t that stranger here to help Jack escape! It’s obvious the stranger knows this land, knows of the danger. The stranger could’ve known about this creature. So why did he leave Jack here to be eaten! Jack is pissed.

He bangs his hand against the wall in frustration, letting his head fall onto the surface. Tears sting his eyes with pathetic betrayal. He can’t bring himself to move or to care.

There is a creak behind him. He can see urgent claws reaching towards him out of the corner of his eye. They are slow for a moment, but as soon as Jack fully sees them, the claws strike like a cobra. Jack dodges out of the way as quickly as he can manage with a sidestep.

By now it is obvious to say that the creature is blind. Its green eyes may pierce into Jack’s head, but they can’t see anything. They can only sense Jack, but never see exactly where he is.

That doesn’t make the situation any easier. It’s clear that its nose is strong and its ears are even stronger than a regular human’s would be. It pauses only in short moments to take a sniff or to listen for Jack to happen upon a creak in the floor boards.

When this happens, it launches forwards, claws outstretched and legs bent into the pouncing position. It never can fully capture Jack but it gets close several times.

Jack tries to hold his breath to prevent the alarmed shouts in his chest from surfacing. With every near swipe, he gets more urgent and more careless. He doesn’t use his head and begins to falls into the flight or fight response mechanism. His steps creak more, his vision becomes blurry and dark. He stumbles about, feeling the wall for comfort.

He can’t find the exit anywhere and the creature is getting used to the patterns in Jack’s movements. The creature is adapting. The creature is learning and is acing it all.

It manages to tear one of Jack’s shirt sleeves close to his shoulder. It’s not quick enough to pierce his skin, but it gets too close for comfort.

Despite those slashes, the creature still can’t seem to pinpoint where exactly Jack is. It wanders close to Jack, but never close enough to strike for too long. It can never make a perfect dent upon Jack’s body.

The creature’s snout is pointed to the air and its ears are opened to listen for Jack’s footsteps. He steps as lightly as he can, his feet only clicking slightly on the smooth ground of the ballroom.

Jack can’t seem to find the door. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t feel for it. The room has a large circumference.

Jack would run across to the other side to see if the door might be there, but a certain creature prevents him from leaving the safety of the wall.

He can’t help but glance at the creature every few minutes to see if it’s still there. It always is. Jack feels the anxiety building up in him again. Never has he been calm long enough to relax in this maze.

Jack almost feels anger bubbling up again with this thought, but his eyes lock with those of the creature. Though the creature can’t see, Jack feels as if it’s looking into him. His heart is caught in his throat as the creature begins to move forwards in his direction with a slow crouch.

Jack uses speed he’s never had to test before, rushing away from the creature. He forgets the unspoken rule of making new noise and his feet click loudly upon the ground.

The creature roars to life and rushes forwards towards Jack with incredible speed. It’s hands are used to propel itself forwards as it crouches, but mostly it runs upon it’s back legs. It’s so animalistic that it scares Jack shitless. His eyes snap forwards and he sprints faster.

He can hear the slapping of barefeet behind him with each step that Jack takes forwards. He can’t see exactly where he’s going. Everything moves in a semi-slow motion as the lights flicker even more and the room turns dark for moments. Then light. Then dark again. It all repeats back and forth.

Jack dares to look behind.

The creature’s mouth is outstretched farther than possible, displaying a pink, blood filled mouth, spraying spittle and blood. Eyes wide, claws outstretched, ready to kill and the needles of teeth freshly sharpened; the creature is ready to launch itself into Jack.

Jack screeches in shock and nearly stumbles onto his face from pure shock as he whips his entire body to face forwards again. His feet slip slightly, but he’s back up and racing about as if nothing happened.

But the slip allowed the creature to gain some ground and it’s practically biting at Jack’s heels. It’s claws almost catch hold of one of Jack’s arms. In a rush, Jack yanks his arm backwards, turning his head to glance at the creature. He loses his balance as his full body faces the creature and Jack crashes onto his back.

Jack tries to scramble back to his feet, but his sweaty palms keep slipping on the ground. The creature is a blur in his tearing eyes. It moves slower, more calculated in its approach nearer to Jack with a hiss on its lips. It’s on all fours now, head twitching and snout lowered to cover the eerie smile.

Jack looks behind him as he scoots backwards. He catches sight of a golden column behind him. He reaches for it, twisting his body to reach for it and hoists himself up.

There is a sharp pain in Jack’s leg and his face scrunches in pain, letting out a screech of agony. Claws dig into his torn pants, digging into his pale skin and drawing blood to the surface. Jack cries out, clear and sharp.

The creature doesn’t let go, just continues to pull Jack closer to it. Jack struggles in its fast grip and tries to crawl away back. The creature yanks him back and continues to pull him slowly closer. He loses his grip upon the column.

Then there’s a spark of an idea. Jack follows the creature’s movements and thrusts himself towards it, ramming his leg into its long body and kicking it back.

It’s claws detach and it flies backwards, even farther than Jack had expected. It doesn’t have time to rise to its feet and gather its senses. All it can do is lay in confusion for a moment or so.

This gives Jack ample time to rise to his feet and back away. He stumbles on his bleeding leg, hardly able to stand upon it without crying out in suffering. The pain is immeasurable and clouds his vision. .There’s a loud commotion as he falls against a bucket and sends the contents flying about.

The creature is back on its feet, coming towards Jack in a faster pace. Jack springs out in fear. He grabs the nearest object from the bucket and holds it out towards the creature. It rushes forwards to pounce, not seeing the umbrella in Jack’s hand.

The umbrella slides into its chest with ease, as if sliding through butter. There is no humane scream, only a low hiss of a bomb before it blows. Needle teeth sink into the flesh of lips and draw blood. The creature is in pain, but doesn’t loudly vocalize it.

Sickly black liquid, dark, dark, red blood falls from its chest onto the ballroom floor. Jack stares forwards with horror, eyeing the wound he made and then the creature’s face as the hissing dies. There is a lull of silence for a few moments and the two opponents only eye the other.

The creature roars back to life and Jack falls away, almost knocking back into the bucket. The creature begins grabbing towards Jack again. Claws almost catch onto his shaking hands and Jack is once again fleeing the scene. The umbrella is still lodged just below the ribcage in the middle of the creature’s stomach, even as the creature sprints after Jack.

Jack slows as he reaches the wall and can’t think of where else to turn to. He slips his back against the wall, pressing against it.

He can’t breath below the creature that looms above him. It grins down, needle teeth dripping with spittle and it spits out dark red blood onto his face. Jack goes to wipe it away, but his hand never reaches his face.

The creature grabs at his hand, sinking black claws through the thin fabric of his shirt and into his wrist. Jack tries to break away by pushing off the wall and rushing to the side. Claws sink further in and draw a deep scar through his hand and into it’s back, almost sinking into the bones.

Jack howls and brings the hand to his chest with his cries. He collapses onto his still bleeding leg in despair, only to wail harder.

The creature pulls him back upwards by the collar of his shirt, choking him and getting him onto his feet. Jack cries out again, now suspended from the floor. The creature smiles its devilish smile and pulls Jack closer, no doubt about to make its final move.

The killing strike is about to happen before Jack’s eyes. He squeezes them shut to bear the pain and to block out the creature. He flings out his legs with a sharp grunt and they make contact.

The creature falls flat upon its face. Jack drops onto the ground too, but scrambles to his feet instantly unlike the creature.

Jack’s flying to the nearby door, which he finally has seen. He grins largely and pulls it open. He slips through before the creature even gathers itself. Jack is off in a flash.

Jack is away, not caring if his leg is crying out in anguish. The pain is almost unbearable. Almost. He can’t bring himself to stop as he feels the pain, knowing that if he does it will only be worse.

His hand is pressed against his chest, letting blood run down his arm and his chest. Its dripping everywhere. Blood is everywhere.

His face is red, his eyes are blue but red from tears still falling off his cheeks. Blood rolls off of Jack, a breadcrumb trail leading directly to him.

The creature, Jack knows, can sniff for him. It can feel the sticky mess upon the ground with long arms. It can lower its needle mouth to the ground and taste the blood. It can smile and chase after Jack down these dark grey hallways for days on end. It doesn’t seem like it ever tires.

Jack flies down them, trying to ignore all of this in his head. He can hardly see where he is going, but he continues on. He doesn’t care where he’s going, so long as it’s out of these plain pathways he has found himself in.

It’s such a change from the massive, elegant ballroom. It’s plain, almost black, but not quite. Instead it’s a dark, musky grey that suffocates. Jack doesn’t know how he is able to see, for he can’t find any lights about.

Jack can hear something behind him. He doesn’t want to look back. he knows who, or rather what, it is. He pushes himself further and into a swifter sprint despite the yelp from his leg that says “no more”. Jack ignores it with the will to survive burning in his red eyes.

It’s only after the next turn that Jack finally looks over his shoulder. His eyes widen as he catches a glimpse of that creature.

It’s on all fours now, coming towards his feet with an open mouth and outstretched clawed hands. It’s licking its lips and hissing about to try to grab and pull Jack down.

Jack’s eyes snap forwards and he attempts to move quicker.

Everything slows in Jack’s mind than in reality after he glances back. He feels like the creature is gaining in the slowed version of real life as it moves at a normal speed while Jack moves in a slower fashion.

Jack rounds the corner, creature at his heels, practically licking at the blood trickling downwards. The dream-like slow version of their chase drags on.

Another turn and Jack gains some ground away from the creature.

He would smile if he wasn’t so focused on the darkness ahead of him and his desire to get away. He can’t see an exit anywhere.

He trips on his feet, but doesn’t fall to the ground completely. His hands are out stretched and his steps thunder into the ground as he regains his balance and moves forwards all at the same time.

The creature is almost upon him. Its claws are coming onto his legs and its mouth is on his bare ankle where the fabric has been ripped away earlier. Jack cries out as he yanks his leg away. Instead, the creature latches on.

Jack falls and his hands come into contact with the ground. For a split second, the ground is solid. Then it falls apart.

It’s a trapdoor that swings upon below Jack, letting him fall through the cracks. The creature loses its grip and Jack is gone into some deep darkness below.

Jack’s tumbling in the darkness of night. He keeps turning over and over, his stomach twisting and his leg throbbing. His hand is bleeding out terribly with a burning sensation. He doesn’t doubt that his face is pale and covered in sweat. He feels like death.

Jack’s body hits the ground with a large thud.

He’s on his side when he lands and he groans. He turns around so that he’s on his back. There are several sharp objects making their way into his skin.

Suddenly, the ground below him begins to move as the rocks are displaced. Jack yelps as he begins to slide down the cliff he had landed upon.

He turns and turns as the rocks scrape at his back and send him down to the bottom. He tries to grip at something that would stop him, hold him into place, but everything comes tumbling down with him. Jack rolls down and down.

He’s on the solid ground in no time, choking on his breath and blood. His back is bruised and he’s lying on his stomach now. He lifts his body upwards and heaves out a mouthful of blood onto the grass and stray rocks below. He can’t hold his weight for too long and collapses back to the ground.

-◇-◈-◇-

Jack wakes with a start with his face covered in dry blood and mud. He wipes at his chin, trying to get rid of the cracked mask on his right cheek and below his mouth. He fights a gag of disgust as the blood rubs off in flakes.

He turns over to lay on his back, off of his stomach that groans in thanks. He then coughs into his hand violently.

He looks up and can’t see where he came from. It’s dark, dark enough for shapes to blend into each other. There’s a chill in the air.

He’s outside, but he has to still be in the Labyrinth. There’s no way that escape would be this easy, if you can define almost dying as easy. It’s the fact that he hasn’t been inside the Labyrinth for long enough that makes him question if he truly escaped.

It feels like forever, but Jack knows it’s only been a few days. A few days and yet, he’s almost died several times.

He feels the chill and the terror in the back of his mind. He could still die at any moment. The creature is still out there and it could be anywhere.

This pushes Jack to stand. His feet splash in a lake he didn’t realize his lower body laid in. He’s surprised when the water moves and he feels colder and uncomfortably wet. He looks down and sees how there’s a red splotch in the clear water right where he laid. Jack shudders as he looks at his bum leg and how it’s still trickling blood. It’s not as much as before, but if this kept up, Jack could die from blood loss.

He rubs his arms and looks upwards once more and around him. Paranoia sparks up in his chest in the darkness. He can’t look everywhere all at once and that meant anyone could be at his back, ready to sneak up and attack.

Jack is off in a slow stumble. His leg stings with each movement, but Jack bites his tongue. He keeps moving forwards with a fresh panicked drive.

Jack is full of determination as he enters the dark, looming forest that emerges after the rocky beach he had woken in. His eyes squint into the darkness, trying to make out what lies beyond. He can’t see anything, so he fixes his face into a fake look of courage and tenacity. Despite how his arms quake, his dry throat and every sense screaming to wait for the light to return tomorrow, Jack goes into the forest.

Jack shakes with each step. He stumbles, almost falling to the ground covered in dewy grass, but catches himself again. He winces. The unfamiliarity of the scenery makes Jack question his every move forwards.

He looks back and can no longer see the lake at his back. The forest seems to have covered up any exit that Jack might turn to.

What a surprise, Jack sarcastically thinks. He lets out a scoff, but with the sound of an owl in the distance, he jumps back. He winces as weight returns to his wounded leg. He yelps as he grabs the wrist of his bleeding hand out of a nervous tick.

He lets his arm drop and pulls his other hand towards his chest. His heart is pounding, burning in his chest. He takes a moment to listen to the forest and see if anything else lies out there. But all he can hear is the thumping of his heart in his ears and the quickened version of his breathing.

He draws his eyes from the ground and closes them as he takes in a deep breath. He tries to relax.

His Nana was the one who taught him to do that.

Jack had been an emotional child and as the youngest, he felt the weight of being like his siblings something he couldn’t carry.

As he got older, he began to act different among his siblings. He’d avoid them as if they had the plague or something worse. He’d leave any room that more than one of his siblings had entered unless he was required to be there.

Besides that, when he were to take to his siblings, he’d talk formally, but never looking them in the eyes. He’d gaze at the ground while they’d ask him if he was okay or what he had been doing recently. He’d mumble a response and then claim that he has to get going. He’d never look into their eyes, even before he fled the room.

Nana, his governess, finally caught onto what was happening when she found Jack sitting in one of the abandoned towers alone.

He had been crying in the empty space, his back up against the wall. Snot was coming from his nose and he wiped it over his shirt because he had forgotten his handkerchief. He was around the age where he could still get away with that for a year or two.

Nana came into the room via the trapdoor and ladder with a stern look on her face. She glanced around the room with narrowed eyes until they fell upon Jack. Jack tensed with her hard expression, but it softened when it landed upon him.

“What’s wrong dear?” She asked, leaving the ladder and going to Jack.

“Nothing,” He said as he rubbed his eye with the back of his hand. He was still breathing hard and heavy despite his body willing him to slow down.

In fact, that made him feel worse because he couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t even control his own breathing, so how could he be as good as his siblings? How could he help out with taking care of the kingdom and it’s people if he couldn’t even take care of his own breath?

Nana noticed it all. She may have been stern, impatient and crotchety, but she knew her shit. She sat next to Jack on her knees and placed a hand on his back. Jack looked up at her.

“Take a deep breath.”

“Why?”

“Jack, just try,” She used his preferred name and dropped her hand. Her voice was calming and collected, a complete opposite to Jack’s rushed heart and speech. His breathing was shallow and rapid, as if his lungs were too tiny for his body.

Jack gulped in a breath, holding it in his mouth. With puffed out cheeks and eyes still full of tears, he turned to Nana.

“No,” She corrected him. “Let that out now.” Jack did as he was told. “Take a deep breath in, like this.” She took in a breath through her nose, letting it fill her stomach. She began to exhale through her mouth and spoke in a breath voice, “then let it out.” She did it once more and then turned to Jack.

“Do you think you can manage that?”

Jack could only nod and closed his eyes in concentration. He took a deep breath and let it go.

“Good,” Nana said by his side. “Now another.” Jack did so. “Another.” He did so again. “Another.”

Without having to be told, Jack took in deep breaths and let them out along with his worry. He felt himself relax as his heartbeat dropped to a healthier rhythm. Peace took over the space where he could only feel panic.

“Good job,” Nana smiled and Jack opened his eyes. She rose to her feet and offered a hand to Jack for him to stand as well. He accepted.

“Thank you Nana,” Jack returned her smile. The two left the tower soon afterwards.

Jack remembers that lesson and tries to slow his heartbeat as he walks among the thousands of trees. He can’t concentrate as fights the will to run away or to collapse and accept death.

Jack leans against one of the trees, flopping against the large trunk and placing a hand over his forehead. He fights the urge to cry as he blinks his eyes. After a moment, he just lifts his head and looks around.

It’s so odd. There are no lights to be seen in the forest that lays before him. There is no comforting glow of lamps to alert him of another being's presence, but nothing to expose Jack to something that might harm him. It’s a curse and a blessing wrapped into one.

Furthermore, there are no more paths. There’s just wide open area littered with dark, looming trees like this very one Jack’s back lays against.

The trees aren’t like the ones in the clearing with Nox for they are seemingly devoid of any life. Dark, dreary and set in a grey scale, the trees have strong trunks to support their massive size. They block out the black sky mostly, only exposing it between bushels of leaves.

Jack can see that the sky is as dark as always.

Jack places a hand on his chest, feeling his thumping heart. He takes in deeper breaths, willing it to slow down slightly. Sadly, he is unsuccessful. The blood leaks out over his heart as his hand still bleeds.

At the sight of it all, Jack feels woozy. His vision is dark from the lack of light, but he’s also beginning to feel light headed from the lack of blood. His heavy breathing only makes it worse.

Jack pushes from the tree. He finds himself moving despite the sharp protest from his wounded leg. He can’t bring himself to stop. Fear pumps through his body as quick as each breath he draws in and pushes out. If he could run, he would. He’d run all the way out of her and into safety, wherever that may lie.

He can’t stop glancing at his back as he moves. Paranoia sparks every little twitch to try and catch green eyes staring into the back of his head. He expects to see milky white skin and bloody muscles on a crouching figure coming from behind. He expects to see needle like teeth streaked with blood opened and a long tongue licking lips. Jack expects the creature to launch itself out at him and Jack expects to die soon.

So far, he can’t spot it in the darkness.

“I’ll never see Mother and Father again, will I?” He finally chokes out, finding his hoarse voice. He stifles a cry, worried that he already gave away his cover.

He stops in his tracks, waiting for a noise to come roaring behind him. Nothing happens. He sighs in relief and continues walking, but the tension never fully leaves his body. Even as he begins to relax with the cocky assurance that no one is following him, the back of his mind holds onto fear like a child with their favorite comfort object.

The trees grow closer together and their trunks are thinner, causing Jack to have to weave in and out of their twisted, path-like gaps. He can’t tell if he’s heading away or towards the lake he had fallen in. There’s no way to tell the direction without a compass or a light and both are things Jack doesn’t have.

Thoughts of his mother, father and rest of his siblings skitter across his mind with every twist Jack’s body makes.

He’ll never see them again, will he?

How can he escape this Labyrinth after all. He doesn’t even know if this is the Labyrinth anymore, much less how to leave it and get back home.

The pathways inside this forest clearing are confusing, but they are nothing compared to the ones inside the Labyrinth. Plus, those turns and twists inside the Labyrinth go on forever, but are constantly shifting and changing. At least the trees refuse to move. Jack couldn’t map the Labyrinth out even if he had all the time in the world.

He doesn’t. If Jack remembers correctly, the reason he escaped his home and came into this place was because of the peasant uprising. He had been forced into the Labyrinth to escape.

Speaking of the peasant uprising, why did they do it?

Jack had always figured that his father was a kind, benevolent king. Sure, he could be strict, harsh and unforgiving of traitors or those who threatened his rule, but this was standard for most kings.

Not everyone could live in a paradise-like kingdom where everyone was equal and treated with respect. Life wasn’t fair, but the king, Jack’s father, tried to make it as honest as he could.

The people had to deal with a king who spent all his time trying to take care of his subjects. He treated them as if they were his own kids and a parent has to be strict in order to earn respect. A parent takes care of their kids, trying to help them reach their potential. Sacrifices have to be made sometimes and Jack’s father new that. Maybe these peasants didn’t and felt they were being treated unjustly.

Jack is distraught to say the least. His forehead is sweaty and his hands are so clammy. He wrings his hands together, trying to wipe the buildup of sweat mixed with blood away. He doesn’t notice that this inflames his wounded hand. There’s a sharp pain at the back of his head.

His arms drop to his side and his head is perfectly empty. He collapses.

Jack’s on his knees, looking down at them, but not recognizing them. He can’t really think clearly. His arms hug his body close together, trying to search for some comfort. In this haze, he begins to mumble.

“I’m so so so-sorry,” Jack mutters. “M-mother, I-I’m so sorry I disobeyed you and F-father.” He pauses to suck in a breath and continues his stuttering. “I’m s-so sorry E-ethan. Y-you did all t-that-t fer-r **nothing**.” He spits out a bit of blood at the end.

Afterwards, his face fully surrenders to the pain. Tears trail down his cheeks. He doesn’t make any noise even with his crying besides the stuttering of his sentences and the sucking in of breath.

“M-mother,” He keeps muttering. “M-mother. I-I’m scared. G-god fuckin’ dammit! I’m f-fuckin’ t-terrified-d. Mother please, please c-can you help me? Mother. Mother! **Mother**!”

His voice grows more intense, but never louder. It’s a hush of a whisper with his dry throat that is filling with blood.

Jack stops and begins to cough. Splatters of blood come up from his mouth with each heave. He can’t stop himself.

He holds his healthy hand to his chest, gripping at his shirt tightly as if that will stop the blood. It’s the only grip he has on reality at the moment.

His side finally drops to the ground and he loses all his energy. He lays on his side for a moment, then curls into a little ball, protecting his two wounds.

They bleed outwards, crafting a little puddle of blood around Jack’s body. He stares at it, wondering if it was always there and for how long. He can’t think why it’s there. The pain is numb. Everything is so very numb.

Jack’ll rest a little while.

His eyelids begin to fall, blinking gradually until they finally lock. Jack feels the world melt away.

And as he does so, there’s something pulling him. Jack’s too unconscious to bother. He doesn’t stop whatever is happening to him now. If this is the pull of death, so be it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'd like to apologize to anyone seeing this and being like wtf this girl already posted it?!?!?! Yeah…i just got fed up with this format and wanted to change it. I guess now I'm happier with how it looks and now when you subscribe to this work you'll actually get notifications and you can bookmark the entire series. Plus, if you like it you don't have to keep giving me kudos for every update. In all, this is better. sorry and have a wonderful day and enjoy these four chapters posted (unless you've already read this before then sorry, these are the same chapters as before)


	5. Blood Symbols

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack's escaped the maze and the creature, but now finds himself alone in a dark forest. There's nothing out there but his thoughts and the fear of someone walking next to him. Everything is quiet, too quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that I didn't update sooner. But at the same time, I needed a long break for school and for other projects. This summer I'm going to be pretty busy, so be patient with my updates please. I'll try to make them on the longer side like this one to make up for it.

His back is pressed against something when he finally comes to. His throat is dry and his leg is throbbing in pain. However, the leg is better than it was not too long ago.

He rubs the back of his head with a bandaged hand and he’s confused. He blinks at that hand as he lowers it and holds it in front of his face.

Strange, the bandages are soaked in dark blood, but appear to have stopped bleeding out. They are still pulsating with pain, but it isn’t excruciating anymore.

It’s the same story with his bandaged leg. Jack looks down at his pants and sees that on his wounded side the fabric is cut slightly in a slit. Moving on flap of the slit ever so slightly, Jack exposes the bloody bandages.

Nothing’s bleeding anymore, but the crimson blood that coats the fabric is alarming. Jack holds his healthy, but shaking hand over his mouth, keeping bile down his throat.

Jack sits back against the tree and stares up at the branches, hand still over mouth. His mind races, but there’s a silent gratefulness upon his lips. He lowers his hand.

He can feel his lips moving. They are forming the words “thank you” without actually muttering them.

There are tears in both his eyes, but they never fall.

There’s a slight grin on his face, but it never turns into a full fledged one.

Jack moves to his feet, carefully as to not disturb the bandages or hurt his wounded body parts.

He successfully rises and stretches out his hands. He tests his wrists, rolling them cautiously. There’s a slight pain, but mostly he feels fine.

He rolls his ankles, adjusts his legs, feeling slight pains but overall nothing too bad. He switches pressure from one foot to another, testing the waters before taking the leap of faith. There’s once again no shooting bursts of pain rising up within him.

Jack grins with success and thankfulness. He begins to head out from under the tree.

As he begins to move forwards, black dots fill his vision. He’s slightly dizzy, maybe from a lack of water or from all the blood loss.

Furthermore, Jack thinks as he leans back against the tree once more, who the fuck helped him?

Jack has gotten used to how strange the creatures inside here truly are. Jack had run into more malevolent creatures than kind hearted ones. There must have been a reason, a personal gain, that came from treating Jack and making sure he was okay.

Furthermore, it always had bothered him how the animals seemed to know who he was before he even said anything. For example, the first thing that the toad from early said to him was “Prince Séan?”. Did Jack really stick out that much.

Jack was never used to being recognized since he was the youngest of five siblings of a small kingdom full of people. His parents even forgot him sometimes and between their busy schedules, tasks, duties and other children, Jack never minded.

What was really odd was when someone recognized him instantly and pointed it out. Despite his boisterous personality, being in the background suited him. It meant that he didn’t have to act fake in front of everyone and that he could sneak out easier. He could cause more trouble and it wouldn’t be easily traced back to him.

But now in this odd land, Jack sticks out like a sore thumb. All he had to do was sit there for a few moments and a toad almost kidnapped him. Then a group of female warriors vowed to protect him hours before they were all killed by someone searching for Jack. Then it was a creaky old owl who gave him a vial for protection.

Finally it was that stranger. That stranger with an odd aura and a white smile, dark eyes, dark hair and a grace to each movement. Jack found him most mysterious and suspicious of all. Who was that man and why had he taken such an interest in Jack.

Yes, that subject still consumes Jack’s thoughts.

Jack sighs and blocks thoughts from his mind, focusing on the present around him. He begins to keep an eye out for something, anything, that could be out there nearby. His back is pressed completely against the tree once more in a defensive position.

The forest is lighter now with a foggy haze that turns everything a soft grey. Jack can’t see too far between the trees or beyond a few yards. Still, if there were someone who emerged to attack, he’d have enough time to escape. That beats last night.

Jack looks back at his wounds and furrows his eyebrows. Right on his bandages the blood has formed two identical symbols, both on the leg and on the hand.

Most of the blood is thin, lighter, and covers almost the entire white bandage. Towards the middle, the blood is a dark crimson.

The symbol, a circle, was formed by thick blood. The circle is made up of a murder of ravens surrounding a five point star. The star is imperfect, with the top tip poking into the formation of ravens.

It’s incredibly simple, yet so intricate and particular. It’s a medium size, noticeably taking up a big portion of the back of his hand. Why hadn’t he noticed this before?

Jack’s mouth gapes open as he looks down at it. He wants to touch it, but he’s afraid he’ll ruin it or something. Also, if he disturbs the symbol, could he end up hurting himself? So instead of doing anything, he stares at it for a few moments in pure surprise.

The surprise turns to confusion and curiosity. How was it possible that his blood formed this exact pattern, not once, but twice exactly. It is impossible, and yet there it is upon his bleeding cuts.

Who took the time to, while fixing Jack’s wounds, create this small masterpiece twice with only their handiwork.

Were they an artist? Did they live in the forest? If not, why were they in the forest? If so, why do they live in the forest?

Did they often do this to people they found bleeding and needing fixing? Or was Jack a special case?

There are so many questions that Jack knows will never be answered. It drives him crazy as his eyes almost burn metaphorical holes within his hands.

The confusion turns to anger. He knows someone caused this to happen. Why? Why would someone go out of their way to mark Jack in such a way?

What did it all fucking mean?

Jack pinches the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes closed. There’s no reason to hold onto this anger within him, considering that everything in his body is sore or pounding in agony.

He feels the urge to groan, but doesn’t dare. Jack knows that making any loud noises could draw unwanted attention towards him. Despite his rage, he’s not going to act stupidly in the Labyrinth that has tried to kill him several times.

Jack lets out a whistling sigh and opens his eyes. His eyes flick around, wondering if anyone that could be out there took notice to his noise. He pauses before moving, holding his breath.

The air is still and the fog moves in its rhythm on the ground, guided by a slight breeze.

With a gratitude on his mind, Jack pushes from his tree support. He’s shaky on his feet, but Jack puts on a determined face and forces himself off.

It’s not just anger or a lack of warmth or even how weak he is that causes him to shake. There’s a lingering fear with his chest. A fear that only being inside the Labyrinth has brought up within Jack.

A mix of a tightness within his chest and a closed throat every time he swears he sees eyes gazing from the darkness. Any slight noise would cause a small heart surge or pause and any change in terrain resulted in a jump of alarm.

Jack can’t help but bite his lip as he moved forwards, his mind still wrapped around one question:

Who would go out of there way to heal him?

In fact, Jack dives in deeper:

 

What would someone hope to gain from him being healthy or at least not bleeding out to death?

Outside the Labyrinth, he’d understand the panic about his wellbeing because he’s royalty and all. When called to attention, it made sense that he was a royal based upon his appearance and the way he cared himself.  
But everything was different here.

Here though, no one should know of his heritage. The Labyrinth is so closed off from the kingdom that they’d have no way to know any of the royal family, much less Jack. Jack’s never seen a creature alike to any found within these walls beyond in his true kingdom.

Furthermore, any princely attitude that Jack normally carried, had been snuffed out with his constant anxiety in his chest. He was too busy trying to stay alive and not dying of a heart attack to appear calm, collected and sophisticated as he was expected.

Maybe it was that dark figure in the ballroom that had helped him. Maybe that stranger took interest in Jack, for some reason, then took the time to heal him and disappear into the night once more.

Jack’s blood boils with the thought of the way that shadow of a man sauntered about as if he owned everything he touched and saw.

Jack’s skin crawls when he remembers how the two of them touched. To be honest, he’s not sure if it’s a negative or positive feeling that rises in his chest. He doesn’t like it.

Jack’s feet don’t stumble as he walks aimlessly forwards. He practically stomps as he swats the thoughts of the stranger from his mind.

Jack doesn’t like being manipulated or forced into doing anything. He’s stubborn, goes to the beat of his own drum. He is a burst of energy, his own energy. He’ll take down anyone that thinks that they can tell Jack what to do without any explanation.

If that stranger thinks he can dance his way into Jack’s life, he’s in for a rude awakening.

Yeah, Jack’s certain with each step that he could take the stranger down. Despite being sick and aching, Jack’s willpower would bring a swift victory to him. Jack can trick himself into believing this.

However despite “whoever”’s efforts, Jack’s mysteriously patched wounds aren’t fully healed. Each step is agony. Though manageable, it is still painful.

The forest is so dark around him, suffocating any energy that Jack had felt. Eventually, the anger and intensity deflates away and Jack is left hollow. Hollow and alone.

Jack folds his arms against his chest as his steps grow slower. He breaths out a puff of steam. Wasn’t it summer in his own kingdom?

The air blows a rough, chilled gust towards Jack, ruffling his messy hair and making him sneeze.

He pauses to sneeze again and rubs his nose with the back of his hand. There’s another sneeze and a sniffle. Jack groans.

“If I’m fuckin’ sick I swear…” He grits his teeth as he speaks. He continues walking on.

The forest is empty. It seems devoid of any life. That’s odd, considering how the grass is a healthy green and the large canopies of leaves from the trees. The perfect scenery has no chatter of squirrels or calls of birds or any other animal sound to fill that void in the air.

It’s eerie to say the least.

Jack walks through the darkness with weighted footsteps and suspicious glances. He can’t see anything around him but the faded colors and outlines of trees and their leafy canopies.

He sighs dramatically and lets his arms fall to his side. He swings them rhythmically with each step. Jack’s terrified, but with each forward motion he feels annoyance replace his fear.

“Funny,” He finally whispers to himself. “I was curious why there were lamps every two or three feet within the Labyrinth and here I am now.”

Usually this would be the point where he chuckled at his pathetic situation. Instead, his face remains grim and he remains irritated.

With a sigh and in order to prevent himself from going crazy alone, his mouth opens and rambles tumble outwards.

“It’s just weird, don’t you think?” He speaks to himself, his eyes straight ahead. “How the Labyrinth just faded away. When I thought earlier that I couldn’t leave and I couldn’t escape, but as I look around now, there are no labyrinth walls to see.” He motions to the trees with two out stretched arms that then collapse back to his side.

“Also, isn’t it crazy how diverse this place is? You could almost call it a whole other country, or even world. I’d go far enough to say a whole other plane of existence.” He chuckles to himself, but it’s short lived as the sound of a twig cracks below him.

Jack jumps slightly, his breath caught in his throat. He clamps a hand over his mouth and turns rapidly. He expects to see someone behind, waiting with a knife or other murder weapon, but no one is there. His eyes wander downwards.

Jack scoffs with a smile as his eyes fall upon the splintered twig where he had stepped on moments before.

“Nice job coward,” He whispers to himself. “I would give you a hat tip for best actor, but it seems that I left it at home.” Despite his laughter, he can feel the adrenaline of fear rushing in his veins. He goes back to walking and his heart rate begins to decrease.

His voice skips about, conversing about everything and anything under the stars. Jack just goes on and on as if he were cursed to speak forever. The rambles are nothing personal, no deep dark secrets.

This running one-sided conversation keeps him from losing his head. Because he’s about to. Oh he is so close to falling apart at the seams.

The sweaty hands wringing together. The constant fiddling with his shirt collar. The way his steps are infrequent, sometimes speeding, sometimes stumbling, sometimes slow. His throat getting caught up in a breath and holding it for several moments. He apologizes out into the empty air, even if there is no one to say sorry to. Then he continues to form meaningless sentences and empty words.

Jack’s emotionally spent. He wants to collapse onto the ground and sleep for a thousand years. At the same time, Jack feels terrible that he keeps falling back on this self-loathing every few moments and with every step. He wants to get out of this funk.

So once more, he takes a long, deep and relaxing breath in order to calm himself. He lets it wash upon him, like cooling rain in the middle of a funeral. He lets the breath wash away the sad feelings into the forest floor below him.

And when his eyes open again, he feels a sort of vigor within his chest. He lets his mouth fix into a grim sort of smile of determination. He has a purpose, he reminds himself. Jack is on a mission and he won’t be stopped no matter what.

So the talking returns, but this time it’s of lighter subjects, focusing on what Jack has to do in the near future.

How he will find the Labyrinth entrance once again and go through it. How he will track his way and how he will not sway. How he can fight his way out and how he will race into his parents’ arms when he finally finds the ending of this terribly long adventure.

“And everything will be okay again!” He smiles to himself using a louder voice than he had dared to use before. Jack looks around, as if he expects to see someone smiling back to him or maybe the knife wielder he had thought of earlier. With this new found confidence, Jack feels as if he could take a murderer if there was one at his back.

However Jack’s heart stops momentarily when he rests upon dark brown, glowing eyes peering from the darkness around.

“The fuck are you doing?” Jack asks, but not in a harsh way. He asks it genuinely and curiously.

The eyes don’t answer, only stare towards Jack emotionless. Jack sighs and begins to start moving again. He peers out of the corner of his eyes in that same direction and he grins in a knowing fashion when he notices those eyes are looking forwards, walking with him.

Though Jack can’t make out the body shape, he notices how the eyes carry themselves. They are proud, curious and interested, like someone Jack met.

Yeah, Jack’s not surprised that it’s the same stranger from earlier.

Jack almost laughs with how predictable it all is.

“You won’t speak, will you?” Jack stares ahead. There is no answer, just as he had expected. Jack lets out another tiny laugh.

“Not so mysterious anymore, are you?” Jack laughs. “I’ve got you all figured out mister…uh…mister Dark? Sure let’s go with that terrible name!” Jack tries to a laugh a bit more, but the joke is bad and he’s still tired despite his determination.

“I guess you’ve just been listening to everything I’ve been saying, huh?” There’s no reply, but Jack takes that as a confirmation. “Well I’m glad I didn’t spew any special secrets or things of that sort. Nothing embarrassing besides the fact that I talk to myself…which, to be honest, is pretty embarrassing.”

Jack lets a sigh out and rubs his arm.

“But lamps!” Jack backtracks. “Where are they?” He glances around, partially looking for lamps, partially looking for the eyes.

“Why aren’t there any lights whatsoever in this forest?” No response and Jack barely pauses anyway. “Did you design it like this or something? Did you design the whole Labyrinth to have pockets and areas full of lamps and yet…yet there is no natural light what so…” Jack’s voice fades as he looks above.

“Why don’t I-why will…” Jack pauses to take a breath and compose himself. With a croaking voice he continues.

“Why won’t I ever see the sun again?” Jack asks, trying to lock eyes with the hidden stranger. The eyes won’t turn towards him, but Jack can see them and the outline of the body they are attached to.

“Can you even look at me when I talk to you?” Jack asks with a soft voice that hardens. “Can you bear the fact that you’ve-I’m sure it’s your fault! That I’m here inside this fuckin’ maze instead of with my family, where I belong!”

Jack wants to reach out and grab the stranger. He wants to shake the answers out of him. He just wants to know-

“Why me?” Jack asks with defeat in the slump of his shoulders. “Why take me out of everyone else in my lands? Hell, why me out of anyone from the royal family in general? What’s so ‘special’ about me?”

What follows is only silence. The eyes don’t turn to Jack. The air doesn’t break and the silence falls like a heavy, suffocating blanket.

Jack’s gaze though never leaves the dark eyes. His arms folded across his chest in defiance and his eyes narrowed as he waits for the answers he needs.

The eyes are uncomfortable and with each passing moment, the figure becomes slightly more visible. Jack can almost fully see the man’s face and the concern in the worry lines on his forehead.

Jack opens his mouth to say something, anything, because he feels terrible now. For no reason other than pure sympathy, Jack wants to reach out to him and tell him it’s no big deal anyway. Jack doesn’t though.

“I’m sorry,” The figure finally brings himself to speak up. “I’m really sorry Jack.” The voice is rough and sorrowful, but it snaps Jack out of his concern.

There’s an explosion in his stomach and Jack wants to blame someone so desperately. He launches himself forwards.

“You’re sorry!” Jack cries in outrage. “Oh! You’re fucking **sorry**!” Jack doesn’t ever make contact with the stranger. Instead, Jack stops himself a foot away from the stranger’s gaze, letting tension fall between the two of them. The figure seems to escape back into the darkness again, but the eyes remain.

“Yes,” the stranger speaks calmly. “I’m sorry for what’s happened. But more than anything and more importantly, I’m worried about you Jack.” Eyes flick upwards to meet Jack’s.

Jack only scoffs in return.

“I really am,” The stranger assures him. Jack tries to look away, but he returns to the stranger’s unwavering gaze. “Are you alright?”

“Of cou-rse not,” Jack’s voice cracks and breaks into defeat instead of anger. His head hangs low and his arms hug to his chest. “Of course I’m not okay.” His voice is so much quieter than it once was.

“Hey,” the stranger responds, hugging Jack with his words. “It’s alright to feel uncomfortable you know, sometimes…”

“That sounds like something my mom would say,” Jack smiles despite himself.

His smile falls. His eyes trail upwards and meet the stranger’s. There’s a connection for a split moment between the pair.

“Why can’t you just let me go?”

The tension is back again like a blade slicing into their moment and connection. The stranger’s comforting voice is replaced by anger and disappointment.

“I can’t,” the stranger replies heavily, a dark raspiness in his voice. “Understand that, won’t you?” The last part sounded like a punch more than a question.

“It’s just…so hard,” Jack has stepped back further from the eyes.

He refuses to meet them and be sucked back into that odd comfort he had once felt. The splinters of tension building up again have taken any assurance that Jack had once felt and dashed it completely.

“Look Jack,” the stranger sighs. “This wasn’t my plan to have you here, not now, but you are **here**. So let’s both make the best of it.”

“But I just want to go home,” Jack pleads, almost sounding like a whiny brat. He feels like a whiny brat, but it doesn’t bother him. Jack’s so tired of this hopeless feeling within his chest, but he can’t help it.

“But there are so many…incredible things here,” the stranger’s whimsically optimistic and comforting voice returns. “Just look around you, Jack. Can’t you see how awesome all of this is compared to whatever life you once lived in the Outside?”

Jack finds himself gazing around even if he doesn’t believe the stranger’s words.

“You want light?” the stranger asks. Jack turns towards him with confusion and worry. “I’ll give you light!” Jack flinches as he feels something on his cheek. He jerks his head violently towards it.

There, he can see on his noise, is another of those glowing, flying bugs that he had seen earlier. He giggles as he swats it off his nose.

They are all around him in a glowing cloud as bright as the sun.

Jack laughs despite himself, looking in wonder upon the surroundings he can finally see in the light.

The forest isn’t so dreary as he had figured it turns out. The leaves are a dark, obsidian like green, like deep emeralds that radiate a golden hue around as the light catches onto their leaves. The trunks are full black, gleaming and glowing like freshly cut stone. But to the touch, it feels like wood.

The ground below is dark, but there are small daisies peeking out of the springs of worn-out grass and blackish brown dirt. Jack even stoops down to pick one or two, holding them in his hand, tempting to put them behind his ear or something.

“Thank you,” He turns to try to catch the eyes of the stranger.

He’s not there.

Jack isn’t really surprised though, what does surprise him is the voice.

“I wish you the best of luck Jack. We will see each other again, I’m sure of it.”

Jack waves to no one in particular, but he is sure that the stranger can see his gesture.

With two flowers behind his ear and a mind clean of negativity and doubt, Jack sets off. The swarm of glowing bugs following diligently behind their new elected leader.

Yes, the forest has now become more lonely without the stranger’s presence. It’s lighter than earlier though and with the glowing bugs, Jack feels that the stranger’s spirit rests with him. He feels a swell in his heart each time he gazes at a glowing bug.

When he smiles at this, he follows it with a frown. His expression shifts to that of confusion.

Oh of course he is thankful for the stranger’s kindness towards him. No matter what he does though, it’s not the same as being on the outside. Jack appreciates all the stranger has done, but he can never give Jack what he really wants. The stranger knows it. The stranger keeps trying despite it all.

So Jack sighs and wonders why he cares so much about the stranger. He shakes his head and merely focuses on moving forwards and getting to the Labyrinth again.

A few steps more, he tells himself. It’s only a little further.

He uses a trick that his older brother had taught him when they were small.

They had been walking up the stairs to the highest tower in some sort of game or something, Jack can’t remember. He can remember though looking up at his brother. Jack can remember practically falling to his knees from exhaustion.

He grunts with each step upwards, until he finally falls onto the stairs, almost rolling back down. Jack’s brother chuckled and stood above Jack, looking down in amusement. He nudged Jack with a foot, but Jack refused to move. All Jack did was grunt once more.

“C’mon slow poke,” Jack’s brother nudged him again. Jack refused to stir and his brother sighed and crouched to his level.

“C’mon Jack!” He moaned. “You’re gonna miss the best sunrise you’ve ever seen.”

 

“I’ve never seen a sunrise,” Jack grumbled in response. “I value sleep more.” Jack pouted, even if his face was pressed against the stairs.

“But we are only a few steps away,” his brother insisted, but Jack wasn’t convinced. He folded his arms below him.

“How many?” Jack demanded to know. “I want concrete numbers.”

Jack’s brother laughed again and placed a hand on Jack’s shoulder. When that didn’t get Jack to move after a few moments, his brother turned to poking him repeatedly in that same spot.

“Stop,” Jack said after a moment. His brother didn’t follow orders, certainly not from his younger brat of a brother. All he had was a smug look upon his face and giggles responding to Jack’s reactions.

“Stop,” Jack said a little louder. There was no stopping. Jack moaned and flipped over onto his back, letting his eyes wander to the ceiling of spiral stairs and a cobblestone pillar.

“Hey I didn’t know you had a face!” Jack’s brother cried in mock astonishment.

“I didn’t know that you were stupid enough to think I didn’t,” Jack commented with his eyes closed. Jack’s older brother whistled.

“Monsieur Sass Master to the extreme right here this very morning,” His brother announced. Jack couldn’t help but giggle.

“Only for you,” Jack murmured. He peeked one eye open to look to his brother’s face, filled with amusement.

Jack’s brother offered his sibling a hand, hoisting him to his feet and his eyes fully opened. Jack dusted off his shirt. He then offered his brother a thumbs-up and received a nod of acknowledgment.

“Cool,” Jack’s brother said as he began to walk again. Jack sighed and began to follow again.

It wasn’t too much longer, a good solid ten seconds, before Jack complained again.

“How much longer?”

“Uhhh,” Jack’s brother reached for something. “How about we just walk to the next window you see? Then we can rest again.”

“Okay!” Jack knew he could handle that. He figured it would appear soon since they hadn’t passed one in a long while.

It was a longer bit than expected until the next window came up, but it didn’t matter. Even when Jack tried to stop, his brother grabbed his arm and pulled him forwards.

“Did I say this window? I meant the other one,” He smiled. “I promise.”

So they kept on marching up and up and every time Jack would try to stop at a window, there his brother would be insisting that they could relax at the next one. It just was an endless loop until they reached their destination.

The sunrise was truly gorgeous. A dappled perfection of oranges, yellows, pinks mixed with the softness of blue and lavender purples. Jack smiled up at his brother, not admitting it out loud, but thanking him for how he pushed Jack upwards.

So that is what Jack is doing now. He’s telling himself that the next group of trees will be where he’ll take a break. Whenever he reaches it, he ignores his vow and tells himself that he meant that group up there actually.

The game repeats and repeats itself, something to pass the time and occupy Jack’s mind. The glowing bugs are willing to follow him anywhere, so they don’t mind the constant movement that Jack has.

Jack is able to mask his exhaustion with boundless energy, a gift he has had since he was a child.

The slight smile plastered on his face and the bit of spark within his striking blue eyes show a mix of interest in his surroundings. Yet the look exposed the tiredness evident in the bags under Jack’s eyes. He also had shoved his hands into his pants pockets in a lazy move.

He’s tired, but isn’t that obvious? He even jokes to himself in a state of deliriousness that if he commanded the glowing bugs he could make them form a floating bed for him to sleep upon.

It’s a bad idea though. Despite how he appears, Jack isn’t the king of the glowing bugs, sadly. He also doesn’t trust them not to drop him. He has to walk and he tries not to grumble about it.

Suddenly he can see something up there. Jack squints in the darkness, trying to make out a shape. It’s long, tall and reaching up to the sky. There are no trees nearby it and it glows on the top.

A lamp.

Where there’s a lamp, the Labyrinth must be close by. After all, the lamps can only be found within the Labyrinth so far. Jack grins.

Forgetting exhaustion, Jack begins to speed towards it. The glowing bugs are left in the dust of Jack’s burst of energy.

By now, his leg is pounding again and his hands are clenched into fists so that his other wound throbs, but Jack doesn’t care. He can hardly feel it as he grows more excited at the sight of something vaguely familiar. Even a simple lamp can be a symbol of familiar comfort, even if it has only been a few days of being surrounded by them.

Jack needs a drink at this point. And so much therapy.

A few feet from the light, Jack stops short. There, underneath the lamp, lingers a creature. Jack squints a little and he can make out the muscled figure of the ballroom feast creature.

“Fuck-” Jack mutters under his breath without thinking as he begins to retreat back into the darkness. He freezes as soon as the word leaves his lips. He watches in horror as the creature’s head turns.

Eyes lock with his own. The creature’s slit mouth gapes open with hunger, spit dripping from gleaming teeth. Aggressive bloodthirst gleams in its slit eyes and it creeps forwards with a stuttering movement.

“Fuck this,” Jack fully says, heart in his throat. He turns on his heels and sprints away without a second thought.

The glowing bugs had long since abandoned Jack as soon as he had spotted the lamp, out of fear or otherwise.

Without his buddies, the forest is once more an unfamiliar outline of greys and blacks. In short, Jack has no idea where he is going.

He races away from the creature, barely dodging the outlines of trees. He twists his body, almost losing balance, but avoids countless trees. He never slows, even if the chances of him crashing are higher than normal.

He can’t see well, but Jack still attempts to look back at the creature tailing him. It’s slinking in the darkness, hardly visible as it hides behind trees and stays close to the ground. It’s green eyes give it away though. They glow and hunt for Jack’s figure, easily locking onto him and smiling.

Jack turns forwards, but before he can react, his nose meets wood. He’s on the ground with a sudden thud.

“Fuck…” he whispers under his breath as he grabs his nose with his hand. Blood trickles down his arm as he picks himself up and continues moving.

He is officially lost within the forest and can’t tell where he is going. Everything just looks the same in the darkness and the forest seems to never end.

So with his hand held to his face to hold his broken nose into place, Jack continues to weave between trees and wish for the creature to give up or to lose him. Jack’s speed is slightly slower, but he’d rather a broken nose than a broken back and an early grave.

Jack squints ahead in the darkness, expecting nothing. Instead, his eyes widen and a grin falls upon his face as he sees another pinprick of light. Not learning from his last experience, Jack rushes towards it. The light exposes the walls of a structure and behold!

The Labyrinth had been found again.

Jack almost collapses to his knees with happiness, but he can hear a roar of anguish and irritation at his back. He turns to see that creature gaining speed and its mouth splitting its face into two bloody sections. Jack yelps and plunges into the depths of the Labyrinth without a further thought.

His feet thud against the stonepath and it feels as if he is back at the start of this adventure. Besides the creature at his back, the walls of this area feel nostalgic. They are cobbled and littered with a few vines and leaves. The ground is simple and plain and there are a few weeds, flowers and rocks scattered about. He almost expects a toad monster to crawl out from somewhere.

Jack almost laughs, but he can’t spend that kind of energy on something so trivial. His breath is short from exhaustion as he rounds a sharp corner and bursts through a spiderweb.

Spiderweb all over his face and even in his mouth, Jack refuses to stop. If anything, it only causes him to speed on faster and to turn quicker.

Despite the lamps scattered about, Jack’s vision is impaired. Maybe this is due to his hard breathing and dry mouth or that his heart is giving out on him, but he doesn’t know.

All he can say is that one minute he was on his feet, running about and upright. The next he was on the ground, crying out in anguish as the bandages on his leg begin to bleed and unravel. Jack reaches down to see it, to try to prevent the bleeding, but he stops short.

This is the very moment the creature was waiting for and it takes its time to creep from the shadows on all four of its muscular and pale limbs. It licks its chops hungrily, savoring the sight of its prey frozen. It enjoys the moment even more when Jack begins to squirm, fighting to escape.

Jack is trying to run away by crawling on the floor. He can’t help gasping for water and air, taking away his limited energy. His leg won’t take any weight now so there’s no chance of outrunning the creature anymore. He finally notices the wall in front of him. Dead end.

There’s something glinting against the wall thought. Jack reaches towards it.

He stops when he feels a hot, sticky breath on his neck and then a drop of spit upon his shoulder. Jack turns and comes face to face with the creature.

Up close it isn’t any prettier. Jack can see the teeth within the creature’s mouth with holes in its cheeks, exposing rotting gums and sharp canines. The glint of green in its eyes is haunting and craving.

Jack shrinks away from the creature, cowering into the floor. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, accepting his fate. But suddenly he bursts to life and swings the weapon in his hand into the creature’s jaw.

It howls in pain and the weight on Jack’s body is lifted. Jack’s on his feet in a flash, gripping the ax tightly. He’s ready to strike again.

The creature is still howling when it turns back to Jack with an evil glint in its eyes. It looks more savage than ever. It launches forwards.

Jack yelps out in fear, but the flight or fight response within him helps him dodge and then swing the ax into the creature’s back. He pulls it out before he loses his weapon as the creature launches itself into the wall, too late to pounce upon Jack.

For a moment, there is no response from it. The creature lays upon its stomach, still and bleeding from the side of its face. Jack doesn’t move to check out the situation. All he does is grip the handle of the ax tighter and holds it out for protection.

Then all at once, the creature is back on its feet for round two and begins to swat out at Jack with a clawed hand. Jack shouts out in fury this time and slashes his ax, hoping to cut off a limb.

He misses, slashing at the air. The claws of the creature are successful and scratch at the skin on Jack’s healthy hand. Jack wails out in pain, almost dropping the ax.

The creature sees how exposed his prey is and rushes forwards once more, tackling Jack to the floor. Jack squirms underneath its surprisingly strong grip.

Jack swings the ax forwards into the creature’s head again before it can stop him. The creature reacts in a similar fashion as earlier and Jack is once again on his feet.

This time, Jack takes the offense and bursts forwards in an attack now that the creature is exposed. He cuts into the pure muscle of its arm, taking out a chunk and dodging away as the creature slashes at him again.

Its head drips scarlet and its lips are drawn back in a snarl. Its green slits are inflamed, dripping red and glowing a vibrant green.

“Bring it,” Jack challenges through gritted teeth. He tries to blink away the dark dots in his vision and uses his sleeve to rub away the blood still dripping from his nose.

The two are locked in an unfamiliar, stagnated glare. Jack can’t move as he grips the ax tighter. The creature only stares down on three feet, hand fixed in a claw, ready to slash out at Jack.

There’s a sound at Jack’s back. Jack turns to look behind for a small moment. He can only see darkness.

This is all the creature needs to spring another attack. Jack’s head hits the ground with a sickening crack, creating a splitting headache. Jack holds out the ax in front of him, trying to fight off the jaws above him.

Jack’s eyes squeeze shut to combat the pain and to concentrate on pushing all his energy and strength into his arms. He grits his teeth nervously and can feel the ax begin to splinter.

Jack knows in this moment he’s going to die. He can feel it when there’s a snap and jaws close around the ax. Jack draws his hands away just in time and he is left defenseless.

His eyes are still shut when he feels the breath draw away from him for a split second and the sound of wood being flung away. Then the breath returns, hot, muggy and just above him. Saliva drips onto Jack’s cheeks.

Jack opens his eyes to see the gaping mouth, the size of his entire face. It’s opened and the teeth are closing it. A long slimy tongue licks the side of his right cheek tenderly. Jack fights the urge to hurl by squeezing his eyes shut again.

But the teeth don’t meet their target. Jack feels a weight lifted off of his body. He gasps out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He instantly sits upwards, backing up into the cracked wall at his back.

Before him is that creature, but its attention isn’t directed towards Jack for once. Instead, it glares down at a familiar shape, a familiar blur with a machete gleaming in their large hands.

There’s something odd about how fast the figure moves against the larger creature. The blur is all speed, flashy and jumpy with the slashes of their machete against pale muscle. The creature creeps about, dodging if it can, but mostly taking the hits, snarling and using brute strength.

It isn’t a well matched battle, but the fight is unclear in Jack’s pained vision. His sight is dotted with blackness as he fights the loss of blood and the aching pain all over his body. He bites his lip as he looks down at his leg, blinking away tears in his eyes.

The symbol has grown darker, a bright crimson that bleeds out as if it is what’s really in pain. When Jack places a hand on it, he feels a sharp pain, gives a small exclamation under his breath and draws the hand away. He sees it's covered in blood, crimson, vibrant and something he wishes not to see.

Jack’s eyes flick back to the battle as he tries to stand on his feet again. Using the wall as support, he presses against it and rises to his wobbly feet. The strength within him is only a result of the utter terror he feels.

The blur is clearly the superior fighter and the pale creature of the ballroom is covered in bleeding slashes. It looks to be in pain, but mostly it looks furious. It’s moves have become more erratic and random as it tries to swat out the flying blur.

Jack can hearing laughter erupting from somewhere. His eyes are wide as he catches sight of the blur’s face, barely covered by a dark navy hood. There’s a bright redness on his lips as they drip with bright blood.

Then it all clicks within his head.

Jack’s on his feet completely, and tries to bounce from the wall to run away. Instead, he falls into it, cracking the broken wall into pieces. An escape route, he decides. Jack simply jumps over the broken stones with a wince of pain and hobbles in a fake sprint away.

He’s too afraid to look back and tries to sprint fully again. He bites his lip to forget the flaming pain. Fuck it all.

What Jack had once thought was his stranger from earlier come to rescue him, a naive thought, was the very person who had killed all of Nox. This was the blur that had slashed down the Hunter and the other women who were shared a meal with Jack. This was another monster, like the creature of the ballroom.

And here Jack is, unable to fight due to his fear and his wounds. With each biting pain within his leg, he is reminded how truly helpless he is.

He should be avenging the Nox ladies with that old, forgotten and splintered ax. But here he is now, fleeing like a useless child when he could strike them both down. This Labyrinth could use less darkness.

But Jack doesn’t stop to turn back. Despite all of these fanciful and honorable thoughts, he knows that this is the dumb a plan. The only choice he has if he wishes to return to his true land is to flee. He wants to go home more than any nobility he may feel in his soul.

It isn’t long before Jack can’t run any longer. The pain in his leg is too much to bear. He’s far too afraid something is still at his back. Jack turns around and backs up, expecting a wall.

Instead, he crashes to the ground, his head hitting grass. Jack tries to back up as he raises his head, now bleeding in pain. He can hardly move, only howling out in pain. There are tears streaming down his face, but he stops himself from howling by thinking of the possibility of the monsters hearing him.

He sits there, staring ahead into the darkness of the empty Labyrinth. Jack holds his breath, wondering which monster would find him first. Which monster won and which would he prefer.

None, Jack thinks. Maybe they both ended up killing each other in their bloody battle.

There’s nothing for a few moments.

Whatever hope Jack had was short lived. For there’s something coming towards him. A dark figure that’s hunched over appears underneath the closest pulsating lamp. Jack tries to back up again. He has no luck. The creature comes forwards.

It’s all over when the green eyes lock onto him and the creature advances quickly.

Jack has one final burst of energy and he fights to his feet, trying to run once more. His steps are only wobbling hobbles. It is only a second before the creature is upon him.

Sharp claws reach out and rake across his back. Jack screams and falls onto his face. He grabs at the grass in front of him, trying to pull himself out of the creature’s reach.

The creature pulls him back with a rough and tight grip upon his hurt leg. Jack cries out once more, losing his grip. The creature has him in his grasp.

Jack flips himself over onto his back, one last hurrah with a fist being launched into the creature’s face. His fist is easily caught and crushed. Jack screeches, tears streaming down his face.

He finds himself staring into the creature’s face once again. Jack’s glare is his last act of resistance as he rubs his broken hand.

With his injured hands occupied, Jack does nothing when the creature bends down his head, jaws open. The teeth are finally cutting into him. Blood trickles down his shoulder and Jack cries out in sharp pain, tensing up his entire body. His screams fill the forest.

The jaws come away and Jack collapses onto his back. He can’t move. The pain is excruciating. Black dots are taking over his vision, but he isn’t surprised. He feels more numb than he should.

Maybe it’s an acceptance of death because fuck, he won’t survive this. A bleeding head, broken nose, hand and probably leg and countless other wounds, Jack is beyond repair. Not to mention the creature about to consume his heart and the rest of his body.

Jack had hoped that the blur was actually the stranger in disguise and that in reality he was going to be saved. Jack had been wishing, praying, so hard that some knight in shining armor would appear around the next corner and slay the creature.

As he begins to lose consciousness, he is positive that the image of the creature’s outstretched, powerful jaws will be the last thing he sees. Jack feels death at his heels and he allows himself to stop. He can’t run anymore, his leg is completely busted along with his spirit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like Jack is always close to death at the end of these chapters, or blacking out. I feel kinda bad. I promise that the end of the next one, he won't black out to end the chapter. Deal?
> 
> Edit: Guess who used the wrong use of vial and had to go back and change it? Fuck you english language.
> 
> On that note, enjoy the rest of your day/night!


	6. Pillow Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack awakes in a bed with his wounds covered with clean bandages. He has water nearby and the room looks comfortable and soft. Of course he'd be suspicious of his surroundings. Who wouldn't be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally figured out how to bold and italicize on here! Are you proud of me???? Now to go back and edit all my other chapters to have things that I meant to bold in there! c: fun times…

Jack’s throat is too dry. His stomach is too empty. He feels too much like death for his personal liking.

 

His whole body is numb, an improvement from earlier. He rubs his eyes with bandaged fingers and palms.

 

He slowly adjusts his body, taking care not to irritate his bandaged wrist. He is sitting up against something solid now and he yawns with arms outstretched. Then he slowly opens his eyes.

 

With alarm, Jack jerks and flings off the covers of the bed he’s in. He begins to move his legs to stand upon the floor with too much of a rush. His head rushes too, his bandaged limbs ache slightly and he decides it’s best to settle back in.

 

He closes his eyes, his legs hanging off the side of the bed and kicking back and forth. He breathes out in a sigh and opens those eyes. He holds out his hands in front of him, blocking out sunlight streaming in from sheer buttercream yellow curtains covered in white flowers. They are beautiful curtains.

 

However, he distracted by his hands to admire window curtains. He sits up and gazes at the pure bandages, free of blood and free of symbols. They are solid white, slightly dirtied, but mostly look unused.

 

Jack tries to see if there is a glimmer of some kind of symbol as he turns his hands over and over onto the palms and looking at the wrists. There’s nothing.

 

He examines his leg as well and there’s nothing there. There is no blood, no symbols, just pure whiteness. Everything is fresh and untouched.

 

Jack’s not sure whether to be thankful or concerned.

 

He lets his foot drop back down and uses his hands to prop himself up. He gazes about the cabin with curiosity. After all, he can’t remember stumbling upon it earlier. To be honest though, earlier is still fuzzy.

 

The walls are light wood, full of natural sunrays. The only things on the wall are a large circular mirror and a shelf with four books with a stone heart paperweight.

 

The covers of the bed Jack’s in are white, also immaculate like Jack’s bandages. There are four pillows, two are white and two are soft pink. The pillows are comfortable and there’s a light breeze in the room that ruffles Jack’s hair and causes the curtains to fly.

 

Jack looks next to him, spotting a dark brown night stand. There on top of it, he sees a glass of water. Greedily, he snatches it and chugs it down, sucking up the moisture as if he’d been in a desert for thousands of years. The glass becomes empty quickly and Jack puts it back down.

 

Jack settles back into the covers, content with his healed throat. That is, until his stomach makes a noise of protest. It begs Jack to remember food.

 

Jack is too tired to try to go off on a quest for food. He closes his eyes again, but not long enough to fully commit to sleep.

 

He can’t seem to bring himself to be caught off guard in a stranger’s home. He may be exhausted, but he’s not stupid. He can’t remember last night perfectly, which is all the more reason to stay awake so he can catch his host.

 

But at the same time, Jack knows if he tries to stand, he’ll collapse and his eyes will close. No, he’ll wait for his host to come meet him. Even if it takes the entire day, Jack folds his arms across his chest and is determined to wait.

 

He waits for a moment in this position and grows bored, his eyes beginning to fall. Despite how many times he shakes himself awake, his eyes always begin to close.

 

So instead, Jack decides to take a peek at what lies outside of that window despite his better judgment. He sits up and uses his energy to practically bolt out of the covers. His legs buckle and Jack thankfully collapses back onto the bed.

 

“Shit,” He exclaims with a somewhat hushed voice. He had been right to not go seeking food earlier, but lacked the actual brains to prevent himself from getting out of bed anyway. Jack is always smooth. He giggles at himself internally for thinking that.

 

The giggles die down as he’s hit with a wave of exhaustion. Jack turns to back to his bed, which has become oh so very inviting. Jack fights the urge to crawl back into bed and be consumed by sleep he so desperately needs.

 

Instead, Jack props himself up with his elbows and sets his sights on the window in front of him. He raises his body so he rests on his hands. His arms shake as he holds his body weight and tries to find the strength within himself to burst forwards. A beat passes and then Jack uses strength to move.

 

Gracelessly, Jack collapses onto the floor as his legs fail him and his body burns out.

 

Jack groans in pain as he raises his face, which he had landed on. He blinks and picks himself up with shaky, bandaged hands. He reaches up to his nose to check if it’s bleeding again.

 

It is.

 

The bandages are no longer perfect white and clean. The blood trickles down his face and he can taste metallic in his mouth.

 

“Shit,” He mumbles to himself and wipes the blood on his dirty shirt sleeve. He sighs and rises to his feet, crawling back into bed. This time, he falls onto a soft surface and hugs a pillow to his chest for a moment.

 

In bed once more and with a clearing head, Jack has some questions. He sits back up to think clearly and stares up at the ceiling. Like always, he asks himself why he’s here, who saved him this time and where here is exactly. 

 

Unfortunately, Jack is simply getting used to not knowing. Furthermore, it took him so long to even question why he was here.

 

Honestly, this is what really bothers him compared to the possible answers to his questions.

 

So there he is propped up with two pillows in an unfamiliar bed with his arms crossed and his nose bleeding out, trying to reason out what has happened.

 

“Why the fuckity frick am I here?” He thinks out loud. “Who is the fucking peasant who saved me? Why?” There’s another beat before Jack follows up with, “I don’t mean to be rude, I’m very tired,” He rubs his eyes as he says so. “I’m very injured, and I’m very done with fuckos rescuing and healing me. This Labyrinth can go suck a thousand dicks.” He chuckles.

 

Suddenly Jack coughs into his hand, his body lurching forwards with shaking. He coughs into his hand and something comes out, spilling and staining the bandages upon his hands.

 

It’s not red, like he was expecting. Instead it’s dark and black, almost as if there’s a gaping, endless void in his hand now. Jack scrunches up his face as he stares at it in disgust. He coughs again and more liquid spills into his hands.

 

Jack then sneezes loudly, feeling sick afterwards. He feels a chill in the breezeless, stuffy room and rubs his arms. He shakes and sneezes again. He rubs some blood away from his nose and sniffs. He coughs once more.

 

Yet despite the misfortune, there’s something that puts him at ease. And it’s because Jack can no longer feel eyes upon him.

 

Since he turned sixteen and onwards, he felt eyes upon him. It only got worse as he aged until he felt paranoid wherever he went. The eyes, the whispers, and the night wanderings haunted him.

 

Now, for the first time in a long while, Jack can’t feel anyone watching him. He feels truly and completely alone.

 

It is a hollow, vibrant, bittersweet feeling. Sure, he loves that he can relax and doesn’t have to worry about a lack of privacy, but at the same time he asks: why? Why suddenly are the eyes gone? 

 

Jack can only assume that the eyes belonged to the stranger. At least, those had to be the eyes upon him in the Labyrinth; outside the Labyrinth is a different story.

 

Maybe Jack is just hoping that it’s the stranger and not some sicko. Jack may not like the stranger that much, but he did show Jack some amount of kindness. Jack had seen how must creatures acted in this foreign land and the stranger had been one of the only people to care for Jack. Unlike Nox though, the stranger held Jack’s attention and was more personal. Jack can’t help but notice him and think of him.

 

Jack doesn’t like it, but he can’t help but worry about the stranger’s safety. Despite his brain telling him that there’s no point, Jack hopes the stranger’s okay.

 

Isn’t that funny? It’s almost like stockholm syndrome. That’s something to be concerned about, even if it isn’t 100% solid that the stranger is Jack’s captor.

 

The stranger moves about as a lord or prince and if he is in charge of this land, then he’s the one who has kidnapped Jack. And if that conclusion is correct, then Jack feels some sort of…complicated emotion towards the stranger. And that right there, that would be a case of stockholm syndrome.

 

Jack doesn’t like that.

 

In fact, Jack is disgusted with himself. How could he feel anything but loathing or at least anger towards a being that’s holding him here against his will? Instead, all he feels is remorse, an uneasy happiness and then a baseline sense of emptiness without those dark eyes tracking him.

 

Jack shivers and sneezes again. He pulls the covers up further so that they cover his neck. He leans down so he can rest his head. He blinks uneasily.

 

His stomach rumbles and Jack can’t remember the last time he ate. He’s tempted to try to stand and explore the cabin he’s within again.

 

This time he’s bolder and he begins to sit up. When he winces from pressure on his wrist, it had begun to bleed again from earlier pressure, he collapses back into the covers.

 

Jack tries his best to ignore unpleasant feelings like hunger and remorse. Ugh, he rolls onto his stomach and buries his face within his arms. He can’t stand this confusion surrounding him.

 

Jack finds himself wondering if his family has returned from their respective places of royal travel and business. Have they found the castle cold and dark and felt confused? Were they searching for Jack as he laid in this bed miles away? Homesickness tumps hunger and it’s all Jack can think of.

 

He shakes the sickness out of his head and breathes out a sharp breath of air.

 

In an attempt to distract, Jack reviews how he got here. He makes a recap for himself as he closes his eyes and readjusts to laying on his back. His hands fall onto his stomach and he feels the steady rise and fall of his chest. The list begins to form:

 

Jack wandered in the night again

 

The castle was attacked by an angry mob

 

Jack fled into the Labyrinth

 

Jack was almost kidnapped by a toad

 

Jack was taken in by the Nox, the women warrior police of the Labyrinth

 

Jack and the Nox had a wonderful dinner

 

The Nox was killed by a silent blur

 

Said blur chased Jack into a clearing, trying to kill him

 

Jack had a mental breakdown

 

Jack recovered from his mental breakdown

 

Jack left his square clearing

 

Jack found himself in a building

 

A twitchy owl told him to not eat any of the feast

 

Jack found himself in a ballroom and music began to play

 

Jack danced with a stranger

 

The stranger left

 

Jack ate some of the food

 

A pale creature attacked Jack for eating the food

 

Jack fell through a trap door

 

Jack became unconscious from his wounds

 

Jack was healed by someone

 

Jack wandered a forest

 

The pale creature found him again

 

Jack ran into the Labyrinth again

 

Jack attacked the creature

 

The creature attacked Jack

 

Jack lost and watched as the blur from earlier and the creature battled it out

 

Jack escaped

 

The creature finds Jack again

 

Jack blacks out

 

 

And now he’s here.

 

There’s a gap in his recap. How did he get away from the creature? And Jack is a curious person and he likes knowing things, especially when it saved him from certain death. So he wants to know how he was saved and by who.

 

But what to do with that information? Jack isn’t sure, if he’d thank his savior or if he’d run away. Maybe he’d beat them or scream bloody murder? Or maybe he’d give them a hug with tears streaming down his face? There’s no way of knowing until he learns. Jack knows he’ll learn some day.

 

It doesn’t matter right now, Jack decides. What matters is much needed sleep.

 

With that thought, Jack feels his eyes begin to shut and the moment before they close, Jack can feel eyes upon him again. There’s a dark figure in the doorway. Jack lets a smile grace his lips and he hugs the pillow closer to his chest.

 

 

-◇-◈-◇-

 

 

Jack wakes up slowly. His eyes open with a slow heaviness. He adjusts himself by blinking rapidly. Shortly following his clear image, his breathing changes and his heart beat rushes.

 

His eyes land upon a seat that he hadn’t  noticed nearby the window to his left. It looks comfortable, enough to fall asleep in. And someone has done just that. 

 

The sleeping man’s head rests upon his arm on the armrest in an uncomfortable position. His hair is messy and covers most of his face. The small part of his face that’s visible shows a soft smile.

 

His breathing is smooth, calm. He looks innocent and peaceful.

 

Despite his attractive build and looks, his clothes explain to Jack that this man is in a lower class. His shirt is clean, but simple. It’s a beige color with a white collar and there’s a splatter of blood there. His pants are used to work; darker grey jeans that are ripped at the knees.

 

He’s fascinating and odd, sitting in a beat up cushion chair. He looks out of place in those clothes, in this simple house. Despite what he wears and his surroundings, Jack is almost positive that the man in the chair is of royal stature. He must be, with the way he looks and the unweathered appearance of his face and hands.

 

Jack sits up to get a better look at him, interested and confused.

 

There’s something oddly familiar in his resting face, but Jack can’t place his finger on it. There’s something about his dark hair, his calm and comforting appearance, and even in that slight smile on his lips. The only thing missing is the cape of darkness and then Jack would’ve sworn up and down that this was his stranger in the flesh.

 

His stranger? Jack wouldn’t say that the stranger was **his** per se. Just that **that** stranger was unique and different than any other stranger.

 

Jack shakes his head and decides that maybe this isn’t him. He won’t ever really be sure until the guy wakes up.

 

Jack begins to lay back down on the pillow, ready to wait until his host wakes. He closes his eyes, but then something just clicks. He sits back up.

 

For once, his head isn’t swimming, it isn’t throbbing in pain. No. Instead, it feels fine. It feels better than it ever has since he entered this fucking Labyrinth.

 

Jack adjusts his positioning and his wrists don’t cry out in protest. In fact, Jack begins to leave the bed and has yet to feel anything but slight numbness and a dull pain. He sits still for a second.

 

In that moment, Jack realizes that there’s nothing preventing him from leaving.

 

With a glance to the other man in the room, Jack climbs from the bed. With muted footsteps, he begins to tiptoe towards the door.

 

Of course, at that exact moment, the man in the chair adjusts himself. Jack hears the chair squeak and the man within it groan slightly.

 

Jack is so startled that he makes a careless and quickened step forwards. He fails to notice that the carpet’s edge comes up and he trips, crashing to the ground.

 

Okay so now he can feel the pain in his leg again because his entire weight has fallen upon it with a large thud. He grimaces slightly in pain.

 

The man in the chair is up in a flash. He goes to Jack, standing above him expressionless. Jack shuffles so that he’s propped up on his forearms. He stares up with wide eyes and a surprised, gaping mouth.

 

“H-hi,” Jack greets him. The other man’s eyes are dark and familiar.

 

The dark eyed man offers a hand to help Jack to his feet. There’s a welcoming, beaming smile on his tan face. Yet, despite how calming he’s trying to be, Jack can’t find any comfort within it. The smile has something behind it with those unnaturally sharp teeth.

 

Jack’s hand is sweaty.

 

“Do you know what happened to you?” The man speaks as Jack stands to his feet. Jack doesn’t respond. He’s sure he can remember everything pretty clearly, but doesn’t say so. Instead he offers a suspicious glance. The man doesn’t notice and barely waits for an answer.

 

“You were in the woods,” He begins as he leads Jack into his bed. “You were out there all alone and wandering around aimlessly-” He stops himself. “Do you want something to eat? Some water possibly?”

 

“Yes please,” Jack says defensively, slightly nervous under the dark gaze. The stranger nods and gets up.

 

The way he walks out of the room truly reeks of royal stature. Jack watches intensely, picking up on the man’s high head and aggressive footsteps. When the door closes with a thud, Jack lets out a sigh.

 

“The fuck,” He mutters under his breath, running a hand through his greasy hair. He glances around the area with judging eyes.

 

What had been sweet and innocent walls around him now seem like paper-thin wallpaper. Wallpaper that hides the bars of a prison. There was something false about everything in this room and especially the master of this cabin.

 

Maybe he’s feeling melodramatic. He’s looking to into the situation and trying to find faults that aren’t there because being rescued is too incredible to be true.

 

Jack shivers and wishes for the gaze of different, kinder, dark eyes upon him again. He knows, despite this new man’s eyes and appearance, that this is not the stranger from the ballroom. It can’t be.

 

The man’s too cold, too fake to be the same guy who laughed at his weird swearing and falling. It can’t be the same guy who offered a comforting conversation with soft words in the middle of the forest. This man in this cabin can’t be the same person that was in the ballroom.

 

If he is, Jack might cry.

 

‘Cause here’s the thing, Jack would feel lost. The ballroom stranger is something to hold onto. He’s someone Jack knows has been watching over him and protecting him in some way, even if it hasn’t been directly or the entire time.

 

For example, Jack has yet to die and had every opportunity to. He’d like to think that the stranger has been there for him preventing a deathbed. There is no way that Jack has been getting by on simple pure luck.

 

Hell, maybe it was the stranger that cured him the first time in the forest. That wouldn’t surprise Jack at all. After all, the stranger is mysterious, yet has been benevolent and caring towards Jack.

 

To be honest, Jack would rather it be the stranger than anyone else. Despite calling him a stranger, he’s a friend to Jack. Without knowing his name, Jack considers him his only ally inside the Labyrinth.

 

The door thuds against the wall and Jack is brought back to reality. He blinks and locks his vision upon the man.

 

The man holds a smile on his face and a tray with a plate of food in his hands. There’s a vase on it with a purple daisy sticking out of it. Nice touch. Jack is even more wary of the man.

 

“Thank you,” Jack gratefully takes the tray. He shakes off his doubt when he begins greedily eyeing the bread and butter. There’s also a slab of dry meat and a glass of water. Jack hungrily takes a bite of the meat.

 

“So to continue your story,” the man says as he watches Jack eat. Jack nods. “In the woods I watched as a large creature, pale and huge, something we call a Lamia, based on the greek daemon lady. They eat children-”

 

“I’m not a child,” Jack pipes up, setting down his glass of water.

 

“Yes,” There’s a glint in those brown eyes. Amusement? Annoyance? Jack can’t read it clearly. “I know. Lamian also have bits of Wendigo within them. Enhanced strength, nimble limbs and a natural tendency to stalk their prey instead of pouncing right away.

 

“Wendigos crave human flesh, it doesn’t matter to them the age. So a Lamian may prefer children flesh, I doubt it would be opposed to the flesh of you.”

 

The man reaches out and grabs Jack’s chin, holding it up for him to get a better look. Jack jerks away and eyes the man carefully. There is a flicker of something within the man’s eyes again. It’s unreadable. Again.

 

But it is gone and there is a smile in its place. He lowers his hand and readjusts his seat on the bed.

 

“From what I know about this particular one, known as the Pale Man by many, it stays in a dark unused building that once served as the King’s enchanted ballroom where galas and parties were once held to excite the entire land. The Pale Man was placed there when the King died to prevent anyone from traveling on his grave, for that’s what the room has become.

 

“The food within is not to be disturbed for in our culture we believe the dead will be able to come back to life someday. When that comes, they will be hungry, so very hungry. The food must be there for him to eat so that he does not become a zombie or a ghoul of sorts. You understand?”

 

 

“Not really,” Jack says as he shoves buttered bread into his mouth. He chews then swallows before speaking. “Won’t it spoil?”

 

“Ah,” the man smiles. “It is magic of course. Being a king has its perks. It was enchanted so that it could never go rotten and become inedible. We take care of our royalty here.” There’s a hint of something odd in that comment, as if this man knew something private. Jack may be curious what the man meant by that, but he keeps his mouth shut.

 

“Anyway,” the man continues. “I saw the Pale Man coming towards you and you ran away from it quickly, like any sensible person. Eventually, you found the maze again and tried to lose it in there.

 

“By then, I decided that I should go help. So when I finally found you cornered and ready to die, I launched an attack.

 

“We fought and you escaped. After that, I got tired of fighting the Pale Man and it had no argument with me, so it became as bored as I did. I ended up letting it go, expecting it to have forgotten about you as well. Instead, it went after you again. I had turned my back for a moment and it was gone. Like I said, Lamian are nimble.

 

“So I began to track it. It led me outside the maze eventually and I saw you in its grasp, its mouth open, ready to consume your flesh. Didn’t want that to happen, so I rammed my machete into its back. It howled in pain and dropped you. Thankfully you were already knocked out, so I didn’t have to worry about losing you again or about you screaming your head off.

 

“I pulled the machete out and began to fight once more. It was challenging, I definitely broke a sweat, but it hardly matters because the Pale Man eventually was called back to guard his room by the hooting of an old, gruffy and twitchy owl.”

 

Jack opens his mouth to ask a question, but is ignored.

 

“First, I cleaned my machete, flung it over my shoulders. I was going to just head away, but then I noticed you. For the first time, I looked at your face.” Something flashes on the man’s face and his eyes darken slightly. Jack shifts so that he was more upright and the glare disappeared. The voice shifts into a nicer tone, as if to reassure Jack that nothing is out of the ordinary or wrong.

 

“I could see how much you were bleeding, how close you were to death. My heart ached and here you are now.”

 

He beams at Jack with some sort of pride. Jack nibbles at his bread, unsure what to respond with or what to even think. What can he after he just heard that large bit of text.

 

He reviews it over in his head, trying to understand exactly what the man had been saying to him. 

“Wait so you rescued me?” Jack asks as he finishes the bread. The man nods.

 

“Yes,” He smiles. “I always carry a machete with me, just in case. It may be cumbersome to carry sometimes, but damn is it perfect for defense.”

 

Jack tries his best not to let the horror show upon his face. A machete? Fuck. 

 

Jack has only seen one other person fight with a machete ever in his life. His mind flashes back to Nox and the bloody body of the Hunter hitting the ground with a sickening bam.

 

There is no doubt in his mind now. This isn’t the stranger, but instead the blur from earlier.

 

Jack wants to scream, wants to run away out the window or stand his ground and try to stab the blur in the chest. How fucking dare he show his face to Jack after murdering a group of women who had shared their meal with Jack and had dared to try and protect him. Jack’s stomach felt sick and he felt his food rising up.

 

At the same time, Jack wants to question him. Why the fuck has he decided not to kill Jack now? It was clear to Jack a few days ago that this man wasn’t his friend as he slit the Hunter’s throat. The blur/man had then looked towards Jack, hungrily, and then rushed forwards, machete in hand.

 

Jack is frozen, cursed to look into the blur’s eyes. 

 

“T-thank you,” He brings himself to say as he swallows some bread. “I really mean it. Thank you.” He offers the blur a nervous smile, which is reciprocated in a much more confident grin.

 

“But,” Jack explains as he hands the tray back to the blur. “I must be going.” The blur looks at him with confusion as Jack shuffles to the other side of the bed and climbs out, trying his best to not alarm the monster on the bed.

 

“You still need to rest,” The blur coaxes as he hops off the bed and begins to head towards the door slowly. Jack chuckles nervously and walks a bit faster to the door.

 

“I really am alright,” Jack assures him. “I can walk as you can see.”

 

“Earlier you fell,” The blur reaches the door by striding in front of Jack. He closes the door as Jack reaches for the doorknob.

 

“That was because you startled me,” Jack insists. “I wouldn’t have if you had just slept on.”

 

“But then you wouldn’t have eaten,” the blur says. “When was the last time you ate anyway?” The blur looks amused, threatening Jack to answer. Jack lets a beat fall between them and doesn’t notice the blur grabbing his hands and holding them until he speaks again.

 

“Come on Jack,” He says and Jack tries to drag his hands away, but to no avail. “Please get back into bed so you can rest.” There’s that large, glittering smile. Jack shivers and yanks his hands away.

 

“No,” He insists and reaches for the doorknob. Instead, a hand grabs his wounded wrist.

 

Jack, with surprisingly reflexes, yanks his hand backwards, breaking the grip. With that very hand, a punch flies towards the blur.

 

He isn’t called the blur for nothing, because he dodges the punch and grabs Jack’s shoulders all in a split second. Jack can’t move, can hardly breath and his chest is caught in a dreaded tightness.

 

“Jack, Jack, Jack,” The blur shakes his head and licks his lips with a slippery tongue. “Your _highness_ , I thought you were more clever than that. I thought you wouldn’t dare lay a hand upon your…let’s just call him your secret lover.”

 

Jack is more stunned by the blur himself than to correct the last part of his sentence. The blur’s face is morphing from that of a human to something different and darker. It’s more angled, darker like an obsidian blue. His eyes become more narrowed until they are cloudy slits that are simply voids. His mouth is larger and fully of sharp teeth that only get sharper the longer Jack looks at them.

 

His claws grip into Jack’s shoulders, cutting into his skin and causing Jack to wince. He doesn’t scream though, Jack just glares through the pain. He hisses through gritted teeth as the grip tightens slightly.

 

“Oh,” The blur responds, his face defocusing and refocusing as the smoke moves and breaths. “Is the little prince holding his ground? Is the wee prince going to challenge me? Aw, how adorable.” he cackles and his grip tightens on Jack’s shoulders. Jack bites back a groan of pain and instead bites into his cracked lips. They begin to bleed slightly, filling his mouth with a metallic taste. 

 

Jack spits out blood and then glares upwards, his gaze becoming darker still. The blur cackles again.

 

The blur lets go of one of Jack’s shoulders and readjusts his other hand so that it touches the side of Jack’s face tenderly. Clawed nails lightly tap Jack’s cheeks, leaving small scratches on his pale skin. The other hand, still on his shoulder, loosens slightly.

 

Jack flinches away from the blur’s hand, but never takes his eyes off the demonic creature. The blur looks impressed and holds the stare as he snaps his fingers.

 

The cabin around them begins to rot away, the wall coloring melts away to reveal slate grey concrete. It was exactly as Jack had predicted. If he wasn’t in a tricky situation, Jack would claim with a grin that he won the bet.

 

The air becomes stuffy, unclean and sickly, which would explain Jack’s sudden coughing and sneezing earlier. The walls turn from light to dark and cracked. The windows lose their curtains, exposing window panes that are dull with dirt and grime. The bed remains where it is, exactly as it is, being the only thing that refused to turn dark, rotting and broken. Well except for the blood staining most of the covers.

 

Jack sneezes again.

 

“I would’ve prefered to keep you in the dark, well not literally of course,” The blur chuckles. “But in ignorant bliss, without a clue about any true appearances.” The blur explains as he pats Jack’s head. “No matter though. What’s done is done, isn’t it?” He sneers down at Jack, slouching forwards. Jack notices how large the creature is in contrast to the blur that he had seen slitting throats.

 

Jack almost opens his mouth to comment, but he feels himself being lifted upwards by the back of his shirt. The blur’s face comes close to his own and the cloudy slits narrow till they are almost closed. The blur peers over Jack, turning him around and inspecting him loosely. 

 

“No one will know you’re a prince,” He says in a glum tone. “But you do have a delicate, sweet, pretty look about you. Even if they don’t know you are a prince, consumers will suspect some sort of regality about you. Yes. You’ll do alright on the market, despite those rags.” Jack looks down at his clothes with a stunned bit of confusion.

 

“Now,” the blur lifts Jack’s head up with a clawed finger. “You will stay here and not cause any trouble, won’t you my dear?”

 

Jack blinks at him for a moment. The hand drops and the blur grins wider.

 

The moment doesn’t last long.

 

Jack springs into action, launching a clawed attack at the blur. He scratches a hand across the blur’s face with dirty fingernails cutting into obsidian skin. The blur’s skin may be tough, but Jack’s determination to cause pain is sharper. Blood appears on the blur’s dark face, a stark contrast.

 

Instead of responding in anger, the blur chuckles again. He grabs Jack’s face again, squeezing one of his cheeks tightly and gripping the back of Jack’s shirt tighter, ripping fabric. He draws his own blood across Jack’s face as the blur’s nails slide into Jack’s flesh.

 

“You little fucker,” the blur hisses, close to Jack’s face. He’s just close enough to bite off Jack’s nose with those sharp rows of teeth. “You will pay.” The blur chuckles with blood streaming down his face. “There’s no dark king to save you now, is there?” The claws are lowered from Jack’s face.

 

“There never was,” Jack spits blood into the blur’s face. The blur laughs, flinging his head backwards and letting the malicious sound fill the empty room. Jack shuffles uncomfortably in the creature’s grip, trying to shimmy out of his shirt while the creature is distracted.

 

He doesn’t succeed and the blur swings around, facing the door that Jack had tried to escape through. The two squeeze through it, and emerge to another dark and dingy room.

 

The blur swings Jack around with each new turn. Jack watches as they step towards another door, this one dark and metal.

 

The blur hums as he produces a key in his hand from seemingly thin air and turns it into the lock. The key disappears as the door clicks open. The blur continues to hum an eerie tune as he begins to make his way down the dark and dreary stairs.

 

Within the dark, Jack can only hear the clicking of footsteps in a hollow, but closed room. The metal door slams behind them and the lock slides back into place. Jack shivers.

 

“How don’t worry prince-y,” The blur mocks in the darkness. “You won’t be here for long, I can guarantee that. I know you will be wanted very, very soon.” The blur cackles, filling the corridor with a malicious aura. Jack almost lets out a sob.

 

Instead, he hangs his head in despair. Like he had claimed earlier, his luck was bound to run out someday soon. There were no dark eyed strangers to save him in a place where he couldn’t be seen or found.

 

The clicking of footsteps stop and Jack stops moving for a moment. He blinks in the darkness, trying to make out anything whatsoever. It isn’t until the sound of a match echos in the darkness and bursts into flames that Jack sees where he is.

 

He blinks in the new found light, but has no time to realize where he is before he is thrown forwards. Jack cries out in surprise as he hits the floor roughly on his bleeding face. He’s up quickly though and rushes forwards, gripping at the new cell bars.

 

“You aren’t going to leave me down here are you?” Jack asks, not liking how desperate he sounds. The blur looks down at him.

 

For a moment there, a connection is formed between the two. Jack knows that the blur can see desperation, can practically smell it coming off of Jack no doubt. Jack can see the shadows shift to the face of the stranger.

 

The connection is broken when the blur stops shifting and instead grins largely with those sharp teeth.

 

“I must, as much as it pains me,” He speaks with a mock concern. “I’ll leave the light.” He holds up the match, which is withering away.

 

“Oh dear,” the blur looks down at the match. “I’m afraid your time with light is short. Might as well get used to the dark.” The blur sneers and then the light disappears with a breath of air.

 

Jack hears the cackle of the blur and shivers in the darkness.

 

“Until later,” The blur hisses with satisfaction. Jack hears the clatter of feet heading back up the stairs. He hears the lock open and the door squeak. Pale light streams in and Jack tries to see a way out.

 

The bars are too close together and he has no time to locate the lock so that he can try to break it or pick it. Not that he knows how. It doesn’t matter because the light is gone.

 

Jack is left alone in the darkness. At least, he hopes he’s alone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well he did get some food and water at least.


	7. The Blue, The Red And The Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack finds himself alone in the darkness. Only his imagination and what might be lurking nearby is there to help him cope with whatever might become of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHO'S BACK!!!
> 
> Hi! I'm here and I'm ready to write again!
> 
> This chapter is shorter than I usually do, but that's a-okay since I haven't looked at this story in more than a month. I'm so happy to be diving back in and continuing with this story.
> 
> Oh yeah, and those who bet that I wouldn't return, suck it! (just kidding, but I did prove you wrong didn't I?) I would like to finish what I started this one time.

It’s so dark that everything is a fuzzy mess in front of Jack. Colors that he would otherwise be able to see fade into the blackness, preventing him from seeing even basic outlines.

He squints ahead, trying to see, but failing miserably. He tries harder and harder, but all it does is make his head hurt. He even lifts his hands, squinting to see them. He knows they’re there, but his vision tells him otherwise, no matter how close they are to his face. 

 

In defeat, he rests his head against the cool bars.

 

“How do I get into these messes?” Jack murmurs to the bars. “Why do I even bother anymore?” It’s not really a question, more of a ponder that he doesn’t expect to be answered. It’s rhetorical.

 

Who would answer anyway? Jack can tell with the silence surrounding him that the room is empty.

 

Jack pushes away from the bars and moves backwards with weighted steps. Despite not being able to see, he’s alert, with his head facing forwards and his eyes wide and forwards. He doesn’t stop until he feels a wall. He leans against it and slides down until he’s sitting on the cement ground.

 

His body aches again. Whatever drug he had been taking in order to numb the pain has stopped working because he’s starting to feel the pain once again. He feels his leg and its sticky with blood again, barely held back by the bandages. He winces.

 

“Fuckin’ fantastic,” He breathes out and drops his hand. He lets his head fall back against the wall and his eyes close on tears that are beginning to form.

 

“I’m never going to get home,” he whispers to himself. There’s no response from the darkness. He waits for a moment, holding his breath. There’s no one about, lurking in the dark, waiting to attack Jack. In the perfect silence, he would’ve been able to hear someone.

 

“I’m never going to get home,” Jack says a little louder, his head raising. “I’m never going to see my family and I’m never going to  **fucking** get out of here. Am I!” His voice raises to a shout at the end and there are tears streaming down his face.

 

“It was so stupid to think that I could get out of this fucking Labyrinth,” Jack says in a quieter voice as he leans back against the wall. He hugs his arms to his chest. “It was stupid to think that I could survive the Labyrinth. It was so stupid to think that I, of all people, would be able to take on anything that came my way. I’m just…so incredibly stupid, aren’t I? Ha, mother was right…” His head leans back against the wall. “She told me never to go into the Labyrinth. And here!” His voice cracks. “Here I am now in this shit-hole cage awaiting whatever that motherfucker has planned up there.” He pauses as he lifts up his knees to his chest in a slow manner so he doesn’t further injure his bleeding leg.

 

“I’m such a coward,” He miserably whispers. “I could’ve stayed at home and taken on those fuckers or at least died trying. That would’ve been honorable. That would’ve been easier.  **That** would’ve been the smart thing to do and here I am, making the stupid decision again, like always. Its as if every brain cell I had disappeared as soon as I set foot into this fucking place. I went off with strangers, was almost killed several times…I even ate food that I had been told about maybe 30 minutes earlier to not eat. And then when I did, I could’ve taken that vile and drank it to be safe, but I dropped it. I just…dropped it. God I’m such a fucking clutz aren’t I?” He buries his head into his knees.

 

“I almost hope that this creature ends up killing me,” He murmurs, barely audible. “Just end me now please. At this point, that would be better for everyone.” The silence around him is heavy and solemn.

 

Then there’s a sudden hand on his shoulder. Jack lifts his head, turning in the direction that the hand is coming from and squints. He can’t see who it is, but the usual dread that should be filling him doesn’t come. He just doesn’t care.

 

“Just do it,” He end murmurs out loud. He lets his head fall to his knees, waiting for a knife or a sword to lead him to his end. He’s ready to go in this hopeless cavern.

 

“Do what?” The voice is calm, but surprised. Jack doesn’t respond, just let’s his head fall back onto the wall behind. His eyes closed and the tears fall once more.

 

He shakes slightly with each sob and eventually he’s no longer leaning against the wall, but against the figure to his left.

 

At first surprised, the figure let out a small gasp of alarm. But with the state Jack was in, the figure moves his arm around Jack in a comforting hug.

 

Despite the hug, Jack can’t stop crying. He can’t stop crying and sobbing, hardly breathing through each tear that falls from his face and onto the ground. He hiccups with each breath he tries to take in. Eventually Jack can’t even make a sound for he lacks the breath to.

 

He lays there with his eyes closed and tears still staining his cheeks. He shakes still within the arms of the stranger. It lasts for a long while, but in the darkness Jack can’t tell how long he’s been so close to the stranger as he breaks down completely until he’s so numb.

 

Because with each falling tear, he becomes more numb and cold to what is happening around him. Instead of feeling better or feeling more positive like the last time he broke down within the Labyrinth, Jack feels hollow. 

 

“I just want to see my family again,” He moans. The figure behind seems to nod in agreement.

 

“I just want to get out of here,” Jack continues. “I just want to be in my bed. I want to see Ethan and laugh again with him. I want to see my older siblings, even if they are mean sometimes. Older siblings, ya know?” He lets out a chuckle that breaks out into another sob. It fades in the darkness, turning back into the numbness.

 

“I hate this place,” Jack mutters. “I hate the winding pathways, the stupid way they keep changing and fading. I’d think this was all a fucked up dream if it weren’t for all the blood and pain I feel. It can’t be fake if I feel like I’m dying right now.” He grimaces with an ironic smile on his face that turns sour.

 

“I hate how dark everything is-where’s the sun? You’d think I would’ve seen it by now at least once but no. It’s all just dark like a never ending nightmare. Because every time things are looking up, something ruins it all. I thought I was okay up there, I thought that I had been saved and that someone was helping me. Well here I am now. And earlier! Those Nox girls helped me and then were murdered before my eyes and I just ran away instead of helping the Hunter take down this creep, who has found me again. I thought in the ballroom that I’d be okay and there was food and a nice person…yet I was almost killed by that thing. Because I was stupid.

 

“But this Labyrinth, despite trying to pull me into it since I was fucking sixteen years old, has been trying to kill me every moment I’ve spent in here. Considering how many people, or creatures, know I’m a prince, you’d think that I’d be treated better within these walls. I don’t usually say I’m royalty, but I’d like to use that to my advantage now please.”

 

His voice is bitter, biting and full of complaints. Despite how negative Jack may appear and sound, the stranger listens and nods.

 

When Jack’s voice grows slack and fades away, the stranger lowers his head against Jack’s own. It’s Jack’s turn to be surprised.

 

Jack holds his breath.

 

“Everything will be alright,” The stranger speaks in a low voice.

 

“You can’t kn-”

 

“Everything  **will** be alright,” The stranger interrupts Jack’s uncertainty with unwavering assurance. “I will make sure of it.”

 

Instead of expressing his doubts, Jack remains silent.

 

“I promise you that I will find you,” The stranger promises. “I will find you and make sure you are alright. Everything will be okay again.

 

Jack, though confused, remains silent.

 

“I shouldn’t have expected you to be able to find me,” The stranger continues. “I should’ve had you escorted to me in a better manner to ensure that this would never happen. I never wanted this to happen, I hope you know.”

 

Jack, completely perplexed and not knowing what the stranger is talking about, remains silent.

 

“Everything will be alright momentarily,” The stranger moves his head. “I will see to it.”

 

“He he…he,” Jack murmurs. “It doesn’t really matter.” The air around them changes and confusion shifts over to the stranger.

 

“Why?” 

 

“Because I know you aren’t real,” Jack shrugs in his quiet, sure voice. “You can’t be. I must have created you in my mind because I’m so lonely. That must be it…” He seems to be trying to convince himself that this is the only truth that could be possible.

 

The stranger behind him chuckles. His voice is warm and amused.

 

“I promise that you’ll be okay,” The stranger promises again.

 

“I can’t believe that I actually feel comforted,” Jack finds himself laughing despite the tear tracks staining his cheeks. “By some figment of my imagination.”

 

The stranger doesn’t respond with anything but warm laughter like the feeling of sunshine that Jack so desperately wants.

 

“If that is what I am to you,” The stranger chuckles. “Then so be it.” The strange adjusts himself and Jack falls back against the walls softly.

 

“I don’t know why you think this,” the stranger says. “But I hope that I’ve at least made this moment seem more bearable.” A glove reaches out, touching Jack’s face lightly and then fading away. It’s cool and alarming, but Jack finds comfort in the gesture.

 

“Oddly,” Jack looks forwards, knowing he’s looking into the eyes of the stranger. “You have.” His cheeks blush and he’s thankful that there is darkness to cover his face.

 

“I must be off,” The stranger says. “I do wish I could stay, but if I am to help you, I can’t.” Though Jack can’t see his face, he can tell that the stranger is frowning deeply by the tone in his voice. Jack simply nods, even though seeing him in this darkness would be impossible.

 

The stranger’s breath is on Jack’s face suddenly and Jack can feel the brush of lips upon his forehead. Alarmed and bewildered, Jack can’t move. The kiss is soft and lingers only slightly before the stranger’s presence disappears.

 

Jack is left stunned.

 

He isn’t sure how long he stares ahead into the dark with surprise lingering on his face. His mind is in a weird blank state of confusion and calm serenity. A strange dream-like blanket, for lack of a better word, seems to have fallen upon him as he relaxes back into the wall.

 

Was this the stranger from before once again coming to Jack in his time of need? Was this dude tracking him? Jack’s mind lets the questions breeze past, not bothering to answer them. What does matter and what does linger is: when will the stranger return?

 

Because the stranger must have a way out and he promised. God damnit he promised to help Jack out. Usually worry would consume Jack and turn him into an anxious idiot. For some reason, anxiety can’t take over his thoughts. Whatever the stranger had done to calm him is working.

 

That should worry Jack, but instead he stares ahead still in the fuzzy darkness of the cave for an undetermined amount of time.

 

-◇-◈-◇-

 

Light, harsh and dangerous, breaks Jack’s calmness and state. He snaps back to attention.

 

“We expect the highest quality.” Jack can hear voices.

 

“Of course…” The blur’s voice sticks out like a familiar and still sore scar. Jack instantly hunches his shoulders and switches to putting his guard on.

 

The thunder of boots and the creak of wooden stairs drowns out most of the conversation besides a murmur of words strewn together. Limited light streams down in a harsh glow. Jack embraces himself for impact.

 

The impact follows with a burst of bright light, harsh and sudden like a lightning strike that remains permanently across the sky. Jack has to shut his eyes tightly to prevent blinding himself.

 

There is a moment of silence where the footsteps stop and the air hangs on, waiting to be filled. Jack can tell there are eyes upon him and he doesn’t wish to see their owners. He wishes desperately that he too was a figment of his own imagination and that he could simply become one with the darkness and disappear, like the stranger had.

 

Finally, he narrows his eyebrows and takes a deep breath. His eyes blink open.

 

“At first I wasn’t convinced,” someone comments with a malicious grin upon his face. Jack defensively looks in that direction. “But wow…that’s a prince if I ever saw them.”

 

“Look at those eyes!” The other, standing on the other side of the blur, exclaims. “Those are some baby blues if I ever saw ‘em.”

 

It’s not as bright as Jack had thought it was with his eyes closed. It is no sunlight, but the glowing lantern on the ceiling casts a menacing orange glow upon the creatures standing bellow it.

 

The two new figures are almost exactly identical heights and body builds. They both wear the same white mask underneath a dark purple plumed hat. The only thing separating them is the accent of colors upon their dark purple and black armor. One wears deep sea blue and the other wears scarlet red. The same grinning and sneering smile appears where the mask ends.

 

“Yes,” The blur grins with sharp teeth. “I saved him especially for the two of you.”

 

“When did you say that he came in?” The blue one asks. This is the one obsessed with Jack’s eyes from the way he can’t stop looking into them, making Jack’s skin crawl and him break into a cold sweat. Jack hopes he doesn’t show his unease, but with the way that the red one eyes him with intricate attention, he’s sure nothing escapes their gazes.

 

“But you have cheated us before Pravus,” the red one turns his attention from Jack to the blur who’s grin drops. “How can we be sure  **this** is the prince?” The blur seems to scowl.

 

“Because I say it is,” the blur, Pravus, grumbles. “Is that not enough?”

 

“No,” the red one sounds agitated. Jack looks back to the blue one to see if he too is irritated.

 

Instead, the blue continues to gaze at Jack in a lustful manner. Despite not being able to see its eyes, the blue one’s sickening grin, drool dribbling out, is enough to turn Jack’s stomach. He shrinks back into himself, folding his arms along his chest and bringing his up over them.

 

The blue one laughs maliciously and finally breaks from his concentration to interrupt the other two.

 

“Gentlemen,” the blue one coos with a velvety tone. “If we are to argue about this  **sweet** boy.” Jack shudders. “And his blood, why not ask him himself?” All three heads turn to Jack. With the blue one’s grin, Jack feels compelled to keep his mouth clamped shut.

 

“Well…” the red one’s grin is not a deep frown. “Speak prince.” The anger in his voice only makes Jack shrink further into himself.

 

The blur’s gaze burns into Jack, daring him to speak. Anger is bubbling under the surface of that creature.

 

Jack’s eyes flicker to the red and then the blue clients. They eagerly await him to speak. To explain.

 

Jack knows in that moment that he can’t lie, can’t beg for his escape. If he does speak, it will be brief and it will frankly answer their questions. Nothing more or he risks being killed on sight.

 

Besides, these two armor clad clients wouldn’t care what he says. As long as Jack has the royal blood they crave, they will be satisfied.

 

He can barely find the words for fear sticks his voice in his throat. Finally, Jack makes a whisper of a sound.

 

“Speak up,” the red one demands impatiently while the blue one smirks cruelly. Jack as he’s told.

 

“Y-yes,” He whispers, barely audible. “I come from outside the Labyrinth within a kingdom-”

 

“That surely is enough proof,” the blur interrupts before Jack can speak any further. Jack clamps his mouth shut and looks away towards the stairs.

 

He wants to move, to rush away and maybe try to squeeze through the bars and run to the open door at the top of the stairs. He doesn’t dare even flinch, even when the blue one’s eyes bare into his soul.

 

“Yes,” the red one finally sighs. “I do believe that this is indeed a prince. However he looks to be in bad condition.”

 

“Ah yes,” the blur tuts. “Sadly I found him wandering in the Labyrinth already injured and hurt. Seems as if the King himself didn’t take enough care of his items.” Jack’s eyes finally narrowed.

 

“I am not an  **item** of some king!” He roars, making the clients step back slightly in alarm. However the blur doesn’t move or flinch. It’s eyes just narrow. “I am  **not** someone’s property.” Through gritted teeth, Jack suddenly felt anger replacing fear.

 

“You haven’t died within these edges,” the blur hisses. “That shows that someone is looking out for you. The symbols upon your bandages earlier, those were the markings of the King.”

 

“Fascinating,” the blue one breathes out. Jack isn’t sure if it is in response to the new information or in regards to Jack’s actions. Jack’s face falls a similar gaze as his previous expression. 

 

“May we see said bandages?” the red one says. “Our consumers might like to purchase those…”

 

“They are useless off this prince,” the blur explains with a huff. “They were thrown away since they were seeping with blood.”

 

“What is it’s name?” the red one inquires with a glare into Jack. By now, Jack notices that the two clients never drop their smile, even when they frown. Their teeth are always visible.

 

“Jack,” the blur says.

 

“Hello _ Jack _ .” The way the blue one says his name makes Jack’s skin crawl and his eyes widen in fear. A whimper even escapes his lips as he squeezes his body smaller.

 

The blue one simply smirks at his response and lets out a cackling laugh.

 

“Good work Pravus,” the red one grins while his companion still cackles. “I am impressed with your find, it satisfies our wishes immensely. You should be proud.” The blur one bows its head with a sinister smile.

 

“Now,” the blue one stops his cackles with a determined gaze towards Jack. “Let’s talk of payment.”

 

“We can offer-” the red one’s voice grows to a hush as the two clients turn towards the blur to discuss the price. Their eyes are completely off of Jack and he can hardly hear their harsh hisses of argument.

 

If there ever was a time to escape, it has arrived.

 

Quickly and quietly, Jack rises to his feet, his eyes glued to the group just outside his prison cell. He begins to slink over to the bars, never moving his gaze.

 

Near the stairs the lights are blocked by more shadows, hiding Jack slightly from sight. Not enough to cloak him in darkness, but enough to confuse the clients and the blur for a moment. Hopefully.

 

Now the bars would be a problem. Jack had thought that they were wider apart when he stood near the walls, but now closer he can see that this isn’t the case.

 

There’s a whisper at the back of his head. Something telling him to stop. He waves it away.

 

But its persistent, growing louder as Jack begins to stick his arm out and begin to worm his body through the gap.

 

It nags and nags until Jack is sure that the speaker is right behind him. He turns, agitated and moving his arm from the gap.

 

No one is there, just a bigger shadow.

 

Jack turns back to the bars and is about to stick his arm through the gap when a silence makes him turn.

 

The argument had ended moments before and the group had turned back to the cage, expecting to see Jack before them. Instead, the emptiness had caused a momentary panic until the blur turned towards Jack, lying near the bars.

 

Jack freezes with panic and begins to back from the bars, slowly at first. When the blur launches itself towards Jack’s intended escape hole, Jack rushes back to the edge, as far away as he can manage.

 

“You little fucker,” the blur hisses. “You would cost me a rich sum, would you? You wouldn’t do that to the being who saved you from the outside? Who saved you from the King?”

 

Jack doesn’t respond. He doesn’t need to as the blur grins with satisfaction at Jack’s fearful reaction. It turns to the clients.

 

“The payment now,” the blur demands to which the clients respond with a grumble. The blue one reaches into its knapsack, but the red one holds out an arm to signal a stop.

 

“The prince first,” the red one demands. “That way you slippery fiend can’t pull any of your tricks.” Poison drips from his demands and Jack’s blood turns colder.

 

Jack tries to make out anything in the shadows of the chamber, any sight of some sort of hope, some sort of savior. He’s not a damsel in distress, but if that meant he would be rescued, Jack is willing to take on that title. Gladly.

 

The blur grumbles loudly, almost shaking the entire chamber with his agitation.

 

“You anger the Lubidonaan once…” the blur mutters under its breath as it fiddles with something Jack can’t see.

 

“We are near immortal,” the red one mentions. “We are a  _ coetus _ who never forgets.”

 

“Never,” the blue one agrees with an angered sneer. The blur continues to grumble, more agitated than fearful despite obviously intimidated.

 

Jack knows this is the end. Who knows what they want with him. It doesn’t matter because no matter what it is, Jack will be ruined. It is a fate worse than death.

 

There are no tears for him left to cry. Furthermore, if he were to cry, Jack wonders if the blur or the clients would beat him. He would never risk it.

 

The key clicks into the padlock of Jack’s prison and before Jack can move, the blur is upon him. The blur secures handcuffs upon his hands, pinning them to his back to prevent struggle and escape. Jack squirms underneath his hold, but it is no use.

 

When the blur moves, the clients hungrily look upon their new property. However, the blur holds Jack behind it.

 

“Payment,” the blur demands. The blue one grumbles as the red one motions for the knapsack to be opened.

 

In this moment of exchange, the air around the chamber changes. It’s subtle. Jack’s spent enough time to detect it.

 

Despite being colder, Jack feels a surge of something within his chest and he knows. His stranger has come.

 

When the money has been pulled from the knapsack, it seems the the two clients have noticed too.

 

“I thought that you said this place was protected,” the red one hisses at the blur, who makes a grab for the money and misses as the blue one moves.

 

“It is!” the blur screeches. The blur makes another move towards the money, but the blue one reacts once more. “Give me the money and take him!”

 

“Not a chance,” the red one glares as the aura becomes stronger and the lights grow dimmer.

 

Before the red and blue clients can disappear, the stranger comes between the two of them, severing the purple linked portal they were about to shimmer into.

 

There’s a glare upon his dark face, a stormy look that Jack had never seen.

 

It is him though. Jack almost can’t stop himself from collapsing to the floor and weeping with joy.

 

“What is happening here,” the stranger’s once comforting voice has turned into a dark and dangerous sword. Pointed and aggressive and willing to kill as he gazes at the three villains.

 

“None of your business,” the blur dares to answer despite shrinking back into itself.

 

“I find that hard to grasp,” the stranger counters. “Now, there are two ways we can do this.” His eyes meet Jack’s and a comforting smile reaches his lips for a flash. It’s gone in an instant though.

 

“You can give the prince to me,” the stranger motions to Jack and the blur’s lip curls in disgust. “Or you can suffer under my wrath.”

 

The red and blue clients share a look between the two of them. Cowardly, they step back and nod, allowing the stranger to take what he came for.

 

The blur however, despite cowering earlier, refuses to move.

 

“The suffering I presume?” the stranger eyes the blur with a smirk. There’s a tension between the two of them in their stare. In the end, the blur parts.

 

Everything happens so fast afterwards. Keys drop to the ground. The clients disappear into purple shimmers. The blur bursts into the growing darkness. Jack is pulled into a hug.

 

“I am so sorry about everything,” the stranger whispers in Jack’s ear. “But it’s okay now.” Jack is speechless.

 

The stranger turns away and begins to unfasten the handcuffs behind Jack’s back with a stolen key. When his hands are free, Jack opens his mouth to thank the stranger, but something else comes out.

 

Pain explodes from within Jack’s chest. Excruciating, Jack collapses to the ground.

 

The stranger makes an alarmed noise too and rushes to Jack’s side, trying to help.

 

Everything is so fuzzy.

 

Jack doesn’t want to move.

 

The pain is taking over, spreading to every corner.

 

Why does he always suffer within the stupid confines of this fucking Labyrinth?

 

The distant sound of the stranger’s voice is hard to make out in this fuzzy state of mind, but Jack tries his best to listen. All he can catch is the word “move”.

 

Jack shakes his head and the stranger asks once more. His words are unclear, but Jack knows what he’s demanding. Jack can’t bring forth the strength to move and he doesn’t want to move.

 

Two arms try to lift Jack’s weak form. Panic joins the pain and Jack struggles to break out of the stranger’s grasp.

 

The pain grows with each new movement and Jack can tell that the stranger’s voice is trying to fight Jack’s actions.

 

“Calm down.” The stranger’s words are barely audible. “It is alright Jack, you are safe now. It is okay. I can help you.” No matter what the stranger says, Jack’s heart never slows, his struggling grows more and the pain flares up further.

 

Jack lets out a groan of pain and clutches his stomach, but still tries to fight the stranger.

 

“Damn it Jack!” the stranger finally shouts. “I’m trying to  **help** you!” But the yelling is the last straw.

 

Jack gathers up the strength to push the stranger away from him, causing him to fall on the floor. The sudden impact results in blackout and cursing.

 

Jack is out cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will say, that the uploads of this will be infrequent and weird because I will have a lot to handle. Another play is starting up and also school has to be taken care of. Here's to AP classes that I shall be suffering through (kill me).
> 
> Those of you who are curious, Les Mis went well (though I hated the director who never learned my fuking name) and I didn't finish my nanowrimo story or even really touch it sadly. I did get art school done and it went well!
> 
> In conclusion, thanks for letting me take a break and not getting mad about it! I appreciate it :D
> 
> Edit: FUCK YEAH! I got all the chapters planned out now, just have to write them C:


	8. The Dark King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a weird dream, Jack wakes up in a new surroundings. Feverish, wounded and scared, he doesn't know how to react to the new people that come to his aid. To be honest, he isn't sure if they are helping him. Or if they are, will there be strings attached?

Jack stands in front of his castle.

 

It’s dark, midnight or possibly later. The sky should’ve been covered with stars, but its a smokey grey due to the build of clouds all threatening to rain down upon him. The only natural source of light is the sliver of the moon like a sly smile taunting Jack from above. Jack pulls his shirt tighter in an attempt to block out the chill.

 

In this darkness, the only thing preventing Jack from being blind is an orange gaslamp. Nearby, a familiar landmark stands in full glory while Jack’s tired eyes sigh. Even at the presence of it and at a distance, Jack’s whole gives a sigh of fatigue upon sight.

 

The Labyrinth stands where it always had, just beyond the garden of lovely flowers that put distance between Jack and his enemy.

 

Jack’s entire mood shifts and he grits his teeth. His arms fold against his chest in a defensive manner as if the Labyrinth could directly attack him.

 

Jack wears a look like a wounded and cornered animal in the presence of the Labyrinth.  Jack’s eyes are narrowed and he puts the injured limbs of his body behind healthier ones in a protective and thoughtless manner. Jack puts up a guard to protect himself against the dangers associated with that area of his life.

 

Suddenly Jack can hear voices coming towards him from behind. His eyes glance away nervously to look over his shoulder and he spots two dark figures walking close together coming in his direction. In a panic, Jack dashes behind the closest bush of flowers and ducks.

 

Jack can only see the figure’s shuffling feet as they pass together. Their footsteps are sluggish with dragging heels and slight stumbles with each step forward. Their movement is fast, but in a slowed, pained manner. Jack peeks from behind the bush a little more when their backs are to him.

 

A dark green gown is hiked up by two shaking hands and dark hair tumbles in waves down shoulder blades. The woman holds her shoulders back and her head high in a regal manner and in an attempt to fake brilliance and power. 

 

Next to the gown a floor length, flowing dark grey cape follows. It waves in the slight breeze and is embroidered with emerald and gold stitches of leaves and circles. The man holds his head lower and his shoulders slump slightly from overwork and exhaustion.

 

On top of both the figures’ heads sit golden crowns covered in expensive jewels. 

 

Jack finds himself edging out of his hiding place as these two figures continue down the pathway, making their way towards the ominous Labyrinth that stands before them.

 

Then they stop, less than a yard in front of the misty entrance. Hesitation rests upon their gaze as they stand there as if waiting.

 

Curious, Jack stands nearby just out of the lamps light. He watches as the pair glance at each other worriedly and then back into the void before them.

 

In the orange glow, Jack can see their faces from profile. Their skin is pale, a common feature in the cold and generally grey countryside that the kingdom resides in. Yet, there is a sickly green and yellow undertone to it. The skin upon their faces is tight, their eyes are sunken and grey hairs sprinkle their way about their hair that highlight in the orange light. Their lips are ashen and their veins pop and bulge from unhealthy skin. They shiver like two scared children about to summon a demon.

 

Besides that, they are obviously younger than the last time that Jack had seen the two of them. The green gown and the green leather vest give the royal majesties away and show Jack that these are a younger version of his parents.

 

Jack inches forwards to reach out to them, his mouth opening to call out to them with tears in his eyes. But he stops short. He draws back away from the orange glow. He rests in the shadows and just watches, understanding that he can’t really be here.

 

“Are you ready?” the king says in a hushed and gritty tone to his queen. She wrings her hands together in a nervous tick, but gives him a swift nod and a determined face. The king turns back to his own worries and crosses his arms across his chest.

 

Jack watches as the two stand waiting for something to emerge from the darkness before them.

 

Soon enough, the air seems to grow colder and the light nearby grows dimmer, pulsing and adjusting to the darkness spilling from the Labyrinth. The queen drops her hands and raises her chin putting on a more regale, confident face. The king tries to do the same, but is less successful and can’t hide his worried and creased brow underneath a dark gaze.

 

There is a chuckle in the silence that causes Jack’s blood to run cold. There is a crack in the queen’s levelheaded mask and Jack can see his mother’s eyes widen. The king places his hand in her’s with a glance in her direction.

 

As the Labyrinth entrance begins to bleed darkness out, her face snaps back and the regale queen has returned. The king looks relieved, but his eyes are still widened and nervous. She continues to hold her hand as her other hand hardens into a fist.

 

“Lovely to see you, your majesties,” a deep voice breaks from the void to greet the royal couple. The queen raises her chin some more and meets dark eyes with fearless daring.

 

“And to you as well Dark King,” She addresses the darkness with an effortless ease to her words. “How are you doing?”

 

“Fine,” he replies from the shadows. “And you are?” He keeps blending and contrasting with darkness. He fades in and out of Jack’s vision, but that wide grin is always visible.

 

Neither of the two move to answer, but the way their shoulders fall explain it all. Their appearance is all that the dark king needs to conclude an answer.

 

“Have you brought what we’ve discussed?” the dark king says, gazing into the queen’s eyes.

 

“No,” the other king finally speaks up. He’s trying to make his voice as commanding as possible, but failing. “We want to discuss this matt-t-ter more. If you would please.” The dark king smirks at him and then turns his attention back to the queen.

 

“And what would you like to discuss your highness?” He’s only interested in the queen it seems. The queen glares up at him.

 

“As my husband said.” The queen speaks with conviction and commanding. “We are here to discuss the terms of this deal.” The dark king sighs and looks up at the sky for a split second.

 

“I have named what I want to heal your kingdom.” He narrows his eyebrows and glares. “I require more territory.”

 

“And that is something we simply can not give,” the queen declares. “The territory that you desire would engulf our castle and the important farmlands to the west of here. The answer is still no.” The king besides her gives a single nod to agree with his queen.

 

“Then there is no way I can help the two of you,” the dark king explains with a shrug. The dark begins to sink back. “I bid you goodnight your majesties.” He begins to fade back into the Labyrinth’s darkness.

 

“Wait!” The queen’s mask of confidence falls and her face is full of concern. She reaches out to the dark king with a pale and shaking hand. “There must be something else that you want!” She has the desperate look of loss upon her face as one hand is pressed against her stomach and one hand reaches towards the dark.

 

The dark king pauses and the darkness begins to come back. Dark tendrils come forth from the Labyrinth as the dark king steps further towards the queen and king. He strokes his chin and furrows his brow in concentration.

 

“There is another thing I’m after,” he finally admits. The queen lets go of her emotional self and is a stern, diplomatic monarch once more.

 

“Then name it,” She speaks in a frank voice. “My husband and I will see what can be done,” She is straight to the point and never moves her fists from her sides. If she weren’t regal and ladylike, she might punch the dark king in his jaw.

 

“I will take your next born child,” the dark king demands. The other king’s face shapes into a frown in confusion.

 

“But how can you know-” The king is interrupted by a wave of the dark king’s hand.

 

“You surely know of my magic,” the dark king explains. “But her majesty also gives off the aura of a concerned mother, cracking when she doesn’t get her way. This is unusual for her to do so when she is trying to be diplomatic. It was…an  **easy** guess.” He looks smug when the queen purses her lips into a thin line and the king turns to her in shock.

 

“When were you going to tell me?” He asks in a quiet voice.

 

“When this was all over,” the queen explains without looking in his direction. Her hateful eyes lock onto the dark king.

 

There is a moment’s pause between the two different worlds. It’s almost as if the queen and the dark king are locked in a war that can only be fought between sharp glances. The smirk lingers on the dark king’s mouth while the queen still keeps her chapped lips pressed together.

 

“So,” the dark king smoothly begins. “Do we have a deal your majesty?” He extends an arm out to towards her with a menacing grin.

 

She looks down at it and then up at the dark king’s face. Her eyes narrow and she steps backwards slightly, her face cloudy and unreadable.

 

“How do I know that your side of the deal will be upheld once you take my child?” She asks. The dark king lowers his hand and narrowed eyes follow.

 

He pauses before sighing and raises a hand that encloses around darkness for a moment. Then he snaps, a loud and clear sound shakes the silence. He sighs.

 

In the dim light, Jack can barely see his parents’ faces change. Their cheeks fill up again, the king’s patchy beard fills, the queen’s lips stop bleeding and their skin produces a healthy glow. The queen lets out an astonished gasp while the king looks to the dark king.

 

“Thank you,” he says with a straight, confident gaze. The dark king gives a swift nod before he holds out his hand again, offering his deal once more.

 

“But do we have a deal?” He asks.

 

Before Jack can see their response, the scene fades to darkness.

 

-◇-◈-◇-

 

There’s only heat when Jack begins to gain consciousness once more.

 

At first, he can’t move, he doesn’t want to move. But slowly, he twitches and then blinks his eyes once and then twice and he opens them.

 

He gets up slowly, yawning as he does so and then focusing his gaze on where he is. He freezes.

 

There is a lady next to him sitting on a stool. She has a washcloth dripping with water in her hands and whistles as she wrings it out slightly.

 

When she looks in Jack’s direction, she freezes as well.  Her eyes widen as she meets Jack’s eyes. They both don’t move out of fear of what the other will do.

 

The lady is the first to make a move. The bowl on her lap clatters to the floor and she drops her washcloth while she jumps up from her stool. Her white skirts fly behind her as she skitters to the door rapidly.

 

Jack only thinks to call out to her when the doors begin to close. By then, she is already gone.

 

Jack blinks in response to her exit and almost leans back down into the pillows. Why was she so keen on exitting when she was taking the time to heal Jack.

 

Curiosity makes Jack’s head throb and his cheeks burn. He places a hand on his forehead, feeling intense and feverish heat. In a drowsy state, he looks down at the bowl and the washcloth below. Without fully thinking, he reaches down to grab it.

 

Black spots dance across his vision and he feels stomach bile rising in his throat. He begins to sit back up, forgetting the bowl and simply covering his mouth. The sickness consuming him is hot and fast working. Jack swallows whatever is in his throat and feels gross. He feels his eyes closing again and exhaustion waving over him.

 

The door exiting the room hits the side of the wall when it opens. A black cape bursts through and rushes towards Jack as his eyes slide closed. The dark figure is by his side momentarily, kneeling in the wet area where the bowl sits.

 

Jack can see the concern in dark eyes before his mind shuts off and the sickness denies him of consciousness.

 

-◇-◈-◇-

 

When Jack wakes again, he squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath. Then, he finds the courage to open them and he sits up right away. Going as quickly as he can, he pulls back the covers and stands on his two feet, completely ignoring his drowsy head and trying to fight his way to the door.

 

Where is he? He gazes around as he walks forwards, looking at the grey walls and dark grey door before him. It’s clear he’s in a castle upon seeing the golden objects upon tables or on walls. He can also tell it’s not his castle. It’s too dark, too cold to belong to his family full of regale, but down-to-earth people.

 

Jack takes a few steps forwards, hobbling and stumbling a bit. He’s unstable, but if he holds his arms out he can fake balance and confidence with each step. He grins when he walks with seemingly no trouble.

 

Yet his legs shake with each step further until they finally give away. Jack tumbles to the floor and cries out in surprise.

 

Like a flash, the door opens and someone rushes to his side. Two hands grip his arms as they help Jack to his feet. Soon Jack finds himself staring into dark eyes once again.

 

Jack breaks away from the stranger and defensively steps backwards for a moment.

 

“Who are you?” Jack says stumbling backwards. His legs shake once more with his movement back and he can feel gravity pulling him backwards. Before Jack falls, the stranger reaches out and grabs his arm, pulling him forwards towards him. Jack finds himself uncomfortably close to the stranger and dislikes it.

 

“Someone here trying to make sure you don’t hurt yourself,” the stranger smirks with a familiar white smile. Jack eyes him with annoyance, ignoring how the odd and nostalgic feeling the smile brings.

 

“I’m fine,” Jack responds dryly as he distances himself. Jack begins to head back to bed, alone at first. However, the stranger doesn’t let Jack walk without help, despite the bed being only a few feet away. The stranger holds Jack’s arm.

 

“Really,” Jack insists as the stranger pulls back the covers for him. Jack stands by awkwardly until the stranger points to the bed. “I am  **fine** .” Jack does as he’s told though and climbs into the bed.

 

“Leave me alone,” Jack demands. The stranger ignores him as he pulls the covers over Jack. Fatigue washes over Jack.

 

“You really should rest more,” the stranger seems to sense Jack’s exhaustion. He looks down at Jack curiously, interested in a way that makes Jack suspicious.

 

“You should really stop telling me what to do,” Jack responds with narrowed eyes, truly looking at the stranger. 

 

The stranger laughs and sits in the nearby chair. He runs a hand through his dark hair. His hand drops to his lap, fluttering his dark cape slightly. The collar of the cape covers his neck slightly with pointed fabric. The golden crown upon his head looks too heavy. A smirk rests on his mouth.

 

“Are you always this sassy?”

 

“I wouldn’t call it sassy necessarily,” Jack says defensively. “Maybe spirited, spunky…impertinent possibly?”

 

“Well I like spunk,” The stranger laughs, his brown eyes lighting up. “Maybe not impertinence though, that’s pushing it.” His dark demeanor softens with his huge grin and Jack feels his cautionary walls fall slightly. His frown lifts.

 

“Thanks,” He responds with his own small smile.

 

There is a moment of silence though that falls upon the two of them and they only stare into each other’s eyes. Slowly and surely, Jack recognizes the stranger before him. This is his stranger from earlier who is staring with an unreadable expression. Jack hopes that the dark circles beneath his eyes don’t look too terrible and that he doesn't disappoint.

 

More moments pass without saying much and they are no longer staring into each other's eyes. Instead they only glance carefully when they think the other isn’t looking. The stranger blushes a lot, but is quick to change from that emotion to a deeper one as his eyes move from Jack and then to the door and the ground. They linger at the door a lot.

 

“Are you going to leave?” Jack wonders and the stranger’s attention snaps back to him.

 

“Do you want me too?” the stranger answers. Jack thinks for a moment, looking down at his bandaged hand.

 

“No that’s alright,” Jack responds as he looks up. He rubs his right eye with the bandaged hand and lets out a small yawn. The stranger yawns in response into the back of his left hand.

 

The silence falls back over them. Jack blinks a few times and sits up straighter, trying to prevent sleep from taking over.

 

The stranger’s tired too, Jack notes as he sees them flicker slightly. Even so, he reminds upright with his arms folded across his chest. Determination and lack of sleep fit right into his dark appearance.

 

Finally, Jack chooses to ruin the silence.

 

“Why am I here?” Jack bluntly points out.

 

The stranger blinks at him for a moment, trying to think if he heard Jack right. When Jack doesn’t repeat himself, the stranger sighs.

 

“You mean here in this room or here in the maze or here in the world?” He tries to get Jack to clarify. The stranger tries to be comforting with a soft smile lining his face. “I can’t answer existential questions.” Jack is unamused.

 

“Here in this room,” Jack dryly answers. “In this bed in particular. Why do I have these on?” He motions to his bandage on his wrist complete with raven and star-circle symbols. “And why was that lady in here earlier?”

 

“You have the bandages on to help you heal your wounds,” the stranger begins to explain. “You were scarred pretty badly, but hopefully our special medicine and unique bandages are enough to help prevent permanent ones.” He pauses before continuing. “The lady, Valirix, was trying to bring down your temperature. We believe that one of your wounds got infected or something along those lines and you began to develop a fever.” He moves, dropping his arms so that they rest upon his thighs.

 

“You were in a terrible condition when we found you,” the stranger explains as he leans closer to Jack, eyes deathly serious. “You are very lucky to be in our care.”

 

“But  **why** am I…” Jack insists. “Here?” He leans closer to the stranger with intensely furrowed eyebrows. They both peer into eachother’s eyes. They are supposed to be the windows of the soul, but  Jack hopes that he isn’t transparent in that dark gaze.

 

“You are home,” the stranger smiles as he stands to his feet. He never breaks eye contact the entire time. Jack looks up at him with a scrunched nose.

 

“Home?” Jack echos with confusion.

 

“Home,” the stranger repeats with another grin. Jack moves to get up as well.

 

“Wait, wait,” Jack moves his leg over the side of the bed. “That can’t be right I’m still in the Labyr-”

 

“Please get back into the bed,” the stranger warns him as Jack’s feet almost touch the ground. Jack looks up at him with an unamused and tired expression.

 

“Please,” Jack responds flatly. “If this is “home” then I can do as I wish as a prince.” His feet hit the ground and Jack stands for a split second.

 

Suddenly his vision is almost completely covered in black spots and standing is too overwhelming to last for more than sheer seconds. His head swims and he rocks, leaning forwards too much. The stranger rushes forwards and succeeds in catching Jack in his arms.

 

“I told you,” the stranger reminds Jack. “Stay in bed.” Once again, the stranger helps Jack sit upon the bed, moves the covers and tucks him in. Jack folds his arms as he lays on the pillows, his face fixed into a scowl.

 

“I don’t need you to be watching over me like this,” Jack grumbles. Despite his vexation, the stranger seems to ignores Jack’s request. Jack’s scowl turns to a glare.

 

“Take care of yourself,” the stranger advises. “You need to actually listen to other people when they give you advice.” Jack frowns deeper. “Just pointing it out.” He looks back into Jack’s eyes with hard dark ones. Much to his disappointment and surprise, Jack finds himself nodding in agreement. The frown still remains on his face.

 

“Fine,” Jack sighs as he settles into his pillow. He snuggles down in the covers and the stranger looks satisfied. He turns to leave the room.

 

“But I’m tired of being bossed around you know,” Jack calls from behind. The stranger turns.

 

Jack is folding his arms across his chest and sitting up in bed again. His blue eyes are icy and solid. They dare the stranger to contradict him, to fight him. The dark circles and dried blood make Jack look dangerous, a loose cannon.

 

The stranger pinches the bridge of his nose as he stands still before Jack.

 

“Look Jack,” the stranger begins. “You-”

 

“Oh another thing,” Jack interrupts with a harsh tone. “How do you know my name? Because I don’t remember telling you who the fuck I am. Who the fuck are you?” Jack is angry and tired, his voice straining slightly from a scratchy throat lacking water.

 

The stranger doesn’t respond right away as he retrieves a nearby water glass. He offers it to Jack, who doesn’t give it a second glance. All he does is darken his stare upon the stranger.

 

“Take it,” the stranger insists. “You need it.” He’s the one now daring Jack to say no to him. The regality in his tone makes his crown fit his head more.

 

“Answer me then,” Jack demands. “And, if you care about my health, you will. Because otherwise, I won’t drink. I’ll just become dehydrated.” Jack shrugs, knowing he’s pushing it. Still, he has to try anything he can to get answers and understand the mystery behind the Labyrinth and it’s connection to himself.

 

The stranger doesn’t react right away and pauses in thought. Like a light switch though, the stranger’s face morphs into a growing smirk. 

 

“Like I said before,” the stranger says. “You’ve got some nice spunk there.” He edges towards Jack some more, sitting on his bed and getting closer. He pauses as he watches Jack’s face turn scarlet and hot in the blink of an eye. “But I am the king that is in charge of your health at the moment.” He grabs Jack’s chin suddenly, gazing closely at Jack’s face.

 

“You need to listen to those above you,” the stranger smirks sitting upright so he literally is above Jack. Instead of glaring, Jack can’t help but hold his bewildered scarlet shade blooming on his cheeks. He’s simply shocked.  Worse, he feels petrified.

 

Then the voice of reason in his head pipes up loud and clear. Warning signals alert him that this man is trouble and that he best take care.

 

Jack pulls his head back from the stranger and glares. His chin lifts in a superior manner, trying to regain confidence and superiority that he lacked in the earlier moment. His face is still flushed though.

 

“And you need me for something,” Jack glares at the stranger. “You won’t let me die.” The stranger’s eyes grow dark like his mood. “Now tell me why I am here and who you are.” There is a growl in Jack’s voice, a command that only a prince would have.

 

Defeated, the stranger crawls back to his chair. He sits with an elbow resting on one of the sides and his face resting in his open palm. He looks frustrated with a scrunched up nose. He doesn’t respond to Jack, only stares at him for a matter of minutes before finally sitting up.

 

He has completely shifted. First he was welcoming and kind. Then he was flirtatious. Now he is simply irritated. Jack can’t blame him, he’s irritated as well, especially by the stranger’s answer.

 

“How much do you know already?” The stranger asks.

 

“About what?” Jack demands. The stranger clicks his tongue and looks away from Jack. He mutters something under his breath harshly and then lets out a long, dramatic sigh.

 

“I’ll explain later when you are feeling better,” He promises, looking at the ground. Jack groans.

 

“It will make me feel worse not knowing,” Jack insists, curiosity and desperation lining his voice.

 

“It is a long explanation,” the stranger sighs.

 

“I can-”

 

“You are tired and need the sleep. There will be other times for us to talk.” Without waiting for Jack’ to protest, the stranger starts to walk towards the door.

 

“Wait!” Jack calls after him and the stranger is obligated to turn. “You never told me who you were.”

 

“Later,” the stranger promises and begins to open the door room. Jack is furious and rips the covers away from him.

 

“Listen here!” Jack practically shouts as he begins to walk towards the stranger, not caring if his legs wobble with each purposeful step.

 

“I’m not stupid.” Jack’s practically shouting. “I know that you are the same guy in the ballroom. I know I have seen you before in the shadows and in the dark and I demand that you tell me who you are and why you have been watching-”

 

The stranger rushes to Jack’s side as he crumples to the ground. Jack groans. He looks down, vision shaky and feels something warm and metallic in his mouth. When he spits the taste out, blood trickles down his chin and splats onto the floor. His stomach throbs in intense pain.

 

He winces as the stranger moves him upwards and begins to help him stand. Jack finally cries out when he is propped up completely. With no other choice, the stranger picks Jack up bridal style and holds him to his chest.

 

With caution, the stranger slowly moves Jack back to bed. Jack coughs more blood into his fist, eyes blinking in and out of consciousness. He sluggishly looks up at the stranger and gives him a slight shrug when the stranger glares down at him.

 

“Like I had said,” the stranger lectures as he lays Jack back down and pulls up the covers. “You need sleep. You need to be careful.” He pauses as Jack lays there, broken and with half closed eyes. The stranger sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose again.

 

“Look,” he starts. “I won’t tell you what to do, alright?” Jack perks up slightly at this, looking up at the stranger. The stranger offers a smile with relief, but then remembers to keep talking.

 

“But you need to take my advice right now,” He urges. “You aren’t in good condition and I am trying to help you feel better alright? I care about helping you and I can’t do that unless you cooperate. Alright?” Jack gives him a small nod in acknowledgment.

 

“Good,” he smiles. “Good. Now get some rest, please, alright?” The stranger leans down, placing a small kiss on Jack’s forehead. When he stands back up, his face is unreadable. Jack blushes in confusion and his eyes are wide once again.

 

The stranger turns to leave. However, halfway across the room, he turns back around to face Jack.

 

“You asked who I was,” the stranger says. “It’s Mark.” He pauses. “King Mark.” Mark walks out of the room leaving Jack to stare in wonder after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really liked writing this chapter and editing through it. I had an earlier version and god this is so much better! Yay go me. (it's been a rough day and I'm so happy to have this finished!) c:


	9. Mistakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack goes off to explore around his new surroundings in search of answers. Along the way, Jack's worries jump to several different conclusions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't get used to these frequent updates. This isn't going to last for long.

Light streams in the room from two glass doors onto Jack’s bed. The sun, rising above the Labyrinth outside, rests upon light blankets that have been strewn and ruined by constant tossing and turning.

 

The light moves to hit Jack’s eyes directly as time passes on a bit more. It highlights the moisture of worry upon his brow and the lighter circles under his eye. Despite bad dreams plaguing Jack, he seems to have gotten the right amount of sleep.

 

It isn’t enough for him though and the light behind closed eyelids irritates him. He groans and simply turns onto his other side, trying to fall asleep once more.

 

The light fades some more and Jack feels restless. It isn’t until he hears unfamiliar shouting and crashes that Jack rockets out of bed and rushes to look out of the glass doors.

 

Out there is a stone balcony. Jack cautiously opens the doors with a creak and steps outside in his socks. The door closes softly behind him.

 

Jack peers over the edge of the railing and can’t see anything out of the ordinary. There are fields below with white and yellow wildflowers and semi-dead grass. There is no garden like his castle, but it does give a homely feel, making the big, dark castle seem friendlier. Jack smiles and turns his back to head back inside.

 

A sharp cry coming from beyond the castle shocks Jack though and he rushes back to the side of the balcony, trying to see what caused it.

 

In the very distance, inside the mostly green walls of the Labyrinth, Jack can see a burst of fire like a fountain exploding upwards. There are multiple screams coming in that direction. Jack shivers and bites his lip.

 

Should he go into the Labyrinth to try to help?

 

Then he hears the clattering of something below and he rests his head on the railing smiling with relief. A group of warriors marches towards the Labyrinth with their swords raised and shields upon their backs. If Jack squints, he almost swears that this is Nox.

 

Nox leaves a bitter taste on his tongue. He turns away from the Labyrinth and leans against the railing with his head lowered. Guilt chews him from the inside out.

 

Still, he looks back to the ladies heading into the Labyrinth. He hopes that this is Nox once again and that some survived. Jack can only hope as he stares out and leans against the railing.

 

“How are you doing this morning?” Jack hears a scratchy voice ask from behind. He looks back.

 

“I’m fine…Veltric?” Jack guesses as he remembers the lady who had come to take care of him earlier. She smirks and the corners of her eyes crinkle a bit under a white masquerade mask.

 

“Valrix,” She corrects him as she places the tray of food in her hands onto the grey table before him. “I’ve brought you your breakfast, I hope you can eat it now.”

 

Jack grins at her and moves to sit down at the table. Before him sits a pile of piping hot eggs, biscuits, various fruit and much more. He looks up at Valrix with a grin.

 

“Thank you,” He says. “But I can’t eat all of this, would you eat with me please?” Valrix’s face falls.

 

“I’m sorry,” Valrix apologizes. “But I have other duties to take care of. Another time.” She scurries out of the room without looking back and slams the door behind her. Jack blinks, but still shoves a bit of biscuit into his mouth.

 

In the end, he decides to go back to sleep after a hearty meal. Exhaustion and his wounds prevent him from exploring the castle for the moment.

 

-◇-◈-◇-

 

This time when Jack wakes up, it is much later. Forgetting to close the glass door, it remains open, letting in a cool evening breeze that ruffles Jack’s hair.

 

He yawns and stretches as he opens his eyes. He smiles when he notices he’s alone in this large room. He peeks out of the balcony and is relieved to see that the tray from breakfast is still there as well. That means he had no visitors while he slept on.

 

“No one watching me while I sleep,” Jack mumbles as he gets out of bed. With this sentence, his thoughts wander over to his host, the mysterious king Mark. Jack scrunches up his nose at the thought of that peculiar and complicated guy.

 

Jack shakes his head and rests on the edge of his bed, his feet swinging to and fro. He finds himself in better spirits as he feels his forehead. He runs a hand through his greasy hair and smiles to himself. He doesn’t feel hot or feverish. In fact, he feels energized by the amount of sleep he had gotten.

 

Looking down at his legs, he wonders how long he has been out. He knows he slept the day away, but how long had he been sleeping earlier? There’s no way of knowing without asking someone and that is out of the question. To be truthful, Jack doesn’t want to see anyone until he gathers his thoughts fully. Right now, he’s too scrambled and confused to properly know where to start if he were to ask about everything that’s happened recently.

 

When he walks to the door, he remembers that he’s in a castle. By the looks of it, he was high up in the castle meaning that there is a lot of ground to cover if Jack wants to explore every inch of it. Jack sighs.

 

Why Jack is under Mark’s wing and being helped out by the king of this fucking chaotic kingdom. It’s all so weird and odd. Jack pauses, a few feet from the door and simply places his head into his hands.

 

“Fuck,” He breathes out softly. “Fuck fuck fuck.” His heart rate accelerates slightly with nerves about being in this new area. “Breath.” Jack takes a deep breath in and then out. His heart beat begins to go down with each breath he intakes. He might not be able to lower it completely to normal, but it helps to take time to acknowledge it and try to make it better. He opens his eyes and stares down at his clothes.

 

He’s surprised and slightly alarmed to see that he isn’t wearing the shirt or pants he had entering the Labyrinth. He feels a chill go down his spine. He lifts his head and scans the room, looking for his old clothes.

 

It’s not that the pajamas that he has aren’t nice. They are made of blue silk with black buttons on his shirt. They don’t irritate his wounds like his old clothes sometimes did, but the silk is not his. He’d feel more at ease and his heart would slow if he was in his kingdom’s clothes.

 

Therefore, he is very thankful when his eyes fall upon a small pile of folded clothes and he recognizes that they belong to him. The shirt that had been ripped and covered in blood was mended as best as it could be and the stains are no longer visible. The pants are cuffed higher than they had been, but are mended and there’s a patch upon one of the knees. Jack is thankful and quickly changes back into familiar garments.

 

Now more himself, he grabs a hat that rests on a rack nearby to cover his face and to prevent anyone from identifying him. It’s a paperboy cap, something he sometimes sees poor little boys wearing in his kingdom. It suits him he decides as he places it on his head and tips it slightly so it covers his face better. He smiles.

 

Jack slides in his socks over to the door. He waits a moment until he finds the courage to open it a crack and slip through into the great unknown.

 

As Jack closes the door, he bends his wrist back against it. The wound sharpens with newfound pain and it takes all that Jack has not to scream out in anguish.

 

He shoves part of his other fist into his mouth and bites down slightly. Tears stream out of his closed eyes as he bites down harder to distract from the flaming wrist pain. He doesn’t make a sound. No one comes running in his direction. After a moment, Jack lowers his fist and the pain subsides. He is still standing alone in the hallway when he opens his eyes.

 

“Fuck,” He says under his breath with relief as he leans against a dark hallway wall. He closes his eyes again as his head leans back.

 

He doesn’t understand where he is or why he’s here. To make matters worse, the guy that clearly is in charge here won’t explain.

 

Jack’s eyes open. Who is that guy? Why is he so concerned about Jack and his well being? 

 

Confusion mixed with anger bubbles under Jack’s surface. If this stranger cares so much about Jack and about healing him and what not, why did he not help Jack when he first got into this fucking Labyrinth? It’s obvious that this is the king that Jack had heard whispers and mumbles about.

 

What would a king part of this other world want with a guy like Jack, who is a lowly prince in the outside world?

 

Jack’s mind is jumping to different and various conclusions as he wanders down the hallway. He walks with his head down, consumed in his own thoughts, forgetting to pay attention to where he’s going.

 

There are several reasons that this guy could’ve wanted to kidnap Jack. Most theories can apply to any kidnapping of a prince because there are so many benefits. Jack suffered through many self defense classes with his siblings and had it drilled in his head to keep his distance in dangerous situations. He wasn’t to approach peasants and shady looking people unless accompanied by two or more body guards. Jack understands the dangers of being a prince in theory. He never expected to actually face it head on.

 

Mark kidnapping Jack is a theory right there. But if that’s the case, then the real question is why would he kidnap Jack? Because there are many reasons to kidnap a prince. For ransom? For companionship? For information? To seek revenge? To kill? To intimidate Jack’s kingdom? Jack bites his lip and looks up from the ground.

 

Of course, maybe this is all an accident and Jack isn’t supposed to enter the Labyrinth. Maybe Mark is just trying to right the wrong that has been made against Jack. Maybe he’ll heal Jack and then let him go back to his land because he never should’ve entered the Labyrinth.

 

That may have been the perspective that Jack would’ve taken earlier if it hadn’t been for the first person to meet him when he arrived in the Labyrinth. That toad had been expecting him and was going to guide him away to something.

 

The blur and his clients had a similar reaction to Jack. They also knew who he was and had been more successful of course compared to the toad in manipulating Jack and taking him. Jack shivers just thinking of if and turns a corner in the hallway.

 

It wouldn’t make sense for this to be a mistake even if the toad, the blur and his clients didn’t recognize and expect Jack. After all, Jack always felt that pull towards the Labyrinth and had been warned not to enter.

 

He hugs his arms to his side and looks up. A decorative chandelier rests in this particular hallway. Crystals bounce off golden light making the room dazzle with sparkles along the dark walls trimmed with white. The walls themselves are covered in decorative golden ornaments and candle holders as well as the occasional framed painting. Jack turns back to his thoughts and the floor.

 

Wait. Did Jack’s parents know about this kingdom?

 

Jack looks up from the floor and tries to think of their mention of the hidden kingdom. As much as Jack wishes that they couldn’t possibly have any idea, they had to have. They had to know something about all of this because then his mother wouldn’t have warned him about this.

 

If that is the case…Jack’s mind wanders back to the fever dream he hardly remembers and his parents standing in their sickly manner facing the Labyrinth.

 

Like his siblings, Jack had been expected to learn the history of his kingdom. How his great ancestors  fought tooth and nail to liberate the good peasants from the former tyrant who was an evil, unforgiving and unkind king who bathed in the blood of the innocent. He was dark, cold and unfeeling, taking out whatever anger he had against the world upon his subjects.

 

Jack was bored with the history and tended to doodle or read other material during his lessons. He played a game, trying to see how far he could push things before he got caught. He smiled thinking of that, but his grin faded.

 

His parents made him pay special attention to recent events that happened before he was born. Standing in this unfamiliar hallway, Jack tries to wrack his brain for answers.

 

There was a plague and it affected everyone no matter how old, young, rich, poor etc… a person was. It even affected the royal family. The king and queen, his father and mother, had barely a few weeks to live. It is unclear how the plague disappeared, but the royal scientists were able to find a cure and the entire kingdom was saved. A few days after the epidemic died down, Jack was born.

 

He was called a miracle baby by the entire land and since then has been given the title, Prince Séan the Miracle.

 

But something didn’t add up to all of this, Jack thinks as he looks back at all of this. In the dream it wasn’t a scientist that had healed his parents, but a dark figure like Mark standing in the Labyrinth entrance.

 

But that couldn’t have been Mark. Though the smile was the same, there was something different about him that Jack can’t place. And if he remembers Mark correctly, Jack knows that he can’t be more than a few years older than Jack, if that.

 

Jack shakes his head and continues walking down the hallway aimlessly.

 

Anyway, Jack is sure that Mark knew that he was in the Labyrinth as soon as he set foot inside of it. The way the toad was waiting for Jack explains this perfectly.

 

That means that Mark wanted Jack here ,for whatever reason. Most likely, he wants something out of Jack. Jack bites his bottom lip again.

 

But what does Jack have that Mark could possibly want?

 

Jack doesn’t like this feeling. He shivers and places his hands underneath his armpits as he breaths out a sigh in an attempt to calm himself. He tries to turn off his mind by staring up at the ceiling and the intricate patterns of dark golden wood above. It doesn’t really help and Jack groans as he lowers his head again.

 

He shakes his head again, trying to clear it. Once again, he fails. So instead of why he’s here, Jack focuses on trying to remember the king. Jack rounds another corner to his right.

 

Maybe figuring out this odd and reclusive king Jack can understand why he may want Jack in his presence. Determination set on his face, he doesn’t realize he’s walking faster down the hallways. Nor would he care if he did realize.

 

So Mark, the king of the Labyrinth, likes to wear black. He has dark hair, dark eyes, dark circles under his eyes and in general gives off an intimidating look as he stands in the shadows. He wears a solid black cape with light black trim. He wears shoes that thud when they walk making him sound like he stomps a lot when he walks. He seems like an emotional person and quickly jumps around with his feelings, adapting and trying new things.

 

Over all, Jack is confused by him.

 

He knows that this is the stranger that he danced with from what seems like ages ago. Even though it’s only been a few days, maybe a week at most, it feels like a lifetime since Jack saw that stranger.

 

And not that he’s in front of h im again, Jack is nervous and scared. Odd. Jack realizes as he stops walking. Shouldn’t he be thrilled that the stranger has returned? After all, wasn’t the stranger there for him in the shadows in the forest, in the dark of the cell…

 

Of course, it is still unclear if all of those conversations in the dark were real or just Jack losing his sanity in his loneliness.

 

Everything is so confusing and Jack rubs his eyes, which are beginning to water again. He sniffs and continues walking.

 

And now, he can’t get Mark off his mind.

 

No matter how fast he walks, how many turns he makes in the seemingly empty castle, Jack can’t escape his own thoughts. He groans loudly.

 

The way Mark danced with Jack to music that seemed to fade. The way that he laughed and helped Jack stand when he fell in the ballroom. Even the way that Mark had appeared in the forest even with his confusing speech. Mark appearing in the dark cell and simply trying to help Jack. Hell, the way that his eyes seem to follow Jack, watching over him silently.

 

Jack shivers again. Maybe not the last one. Watching over him is one thing, but when Jack remembers those eyes even outside the Labyrinth, he feels uncomfortable.

 

There’s an uneasy feeling that Jack has associated with Mark. He should thankful for Mark’s concern and comfort, but all he can feel is uneasy. There’s something off about Mark and the way he interacts with Jack that can’t be placed perfectly right now. 

 

Jack is almost sure that whatever Mark’s purpose for having him here is, it’s something that he won’t want. Jack’s mind is still crafting theories and they keep getting worse and more pessimistic by the minute.

 

He turns another corner and there’s a dead end a few yards ahead. Curious, Jack heads towards the marble stairs.

 

Before climbing them, he gazes up to wear they lead. A black nothingness stares back at him.

 

He turns his head back to the familiar and down the hallway. To his left, an open window displays a dark blue sky. He smiles.

 

Jack turns back to the stairs and with new determination to reach the roof and the sky, he tries not to slip. His socks are slightly damp, making that feat harder than he anticipated, but still he is able to climb up without falling flat on his face.

 

When the stairs end, Jack is encased in complete darkness. With his heart beating in his throat, Jack pushes up.

 

Magically, there is the exit. Jack pushes up the trapdoor that leads to the open air upon the roof. He cautiously lifts his head to peak.

 

His mouth opens in awe. The night is cool and breezy and above is a sky full of freckles. Unlike within the Labyrinth, several stars dot the emptiness up there. Only a few, like pale freckles, speckle the sky. It is only early night, barely after sunset, so the sky is a bluish dark color. You can see the remains of the sun’s presence as he look just beyond into the very distance with the light orange and pale pink streaks.

 

Jack emerges carefully without making a noise onto the stone roof. He lowers the trapdoor so that it barely thuds as it falls. He looks up.

 

Jack freezes upon the foreign bright yellow light in the palm of a dark figure’s hand. The hand belongs to a dark silhouette gazing out over the Labyrinth. The figure doesn’t look towards Jack, but his head is cocked so that he can hear and pay attention to Jack’s movement.

 

Instead of reacting, Jack remains frozen in his spot. All the while, he wonders if he should say something, leave or go to the figure’s side.

 

Even without the crown upon his head, Jack knows that this is Mark, the king. He looks so distant standing there alone in the blue darkness. Jack feels the urge to comfort him.

 

However, Jack has no time to come to Mark’s aid with the element of surprise because Mark motions for him to come forwards with his hand. Jack comes to his right side, leaning over and peering into the Labyrinth as well.

 

“So has Jack woken up yet and have you brough-” Mark says as he turns to Jack. Once he sees the face of the newcomer in the yellow glow, he stops himself.

 

“Hi,” Jack responds as he waves slightly. His face is flushed slightly with embarrassment.

 

Mark doesn’t respond right away, just looks at Jack with bewilderment shown in wide eyes. Mark lets that fall as he blinks and gives Jack a warm smile.

 

“Glad to see that you are feeling better,” Mark beams. “How are you doing?”

 

“Fine,” Jack folds his arms, defenses coming back to him. Facing Mark now, his mind is once again flooded with a multitude of thoughts, theories and worries. He tries his best to withstand a calm out look, but he knows that his deep frown and furrowed eyebrows give him away.

 

“What’s wrong?” Mark worries, edging closer to Jack. He looks concerned with the way that his dark eyes grow darker and sadder. Jack backs up as Mark advances. Mark stops and the look upon his face is similar to that of a new puppy being called a “bad dog” for the first time.

 

“Nothing,” Jack denies bluntly. His face says otherwise and Mark notices this. Yet, he only sighs.

Jack is surprised when Mark turns away from him and back to the scenery. His expression is unreadable as he gazes out at the kingdom below. Mystery engulfs this man, just like the shadows falling around them.

 

Jack watches as the concern melts away from Mark’s face and is replaced by indifference.  Despite appearing stoic and powerful at a distance in the darkness of the new night, the glow of the orb within his hand makes the circles under his eyes look deeper and darker. His dark eyes still hold a touch of raw emotion though.

 

Jack turns to look over the Labyrinth, tearing his eyes away from Mark. His mind though rests squarely upon the king at his side.

 

There are a few moments of silence as the two stare off into the distance.

 

“Why do you live like this?” Jack asks softly, hoping that he doesn’t sound rude. Mark scoffs, but doesn’t look in Jack’s direction.

 

“What do you mean?” He chuckles and Jack can feel his face flush again.

 

“I meant,” Jack explains. “I meant that why-”

 

“Why this kingdom is a maze?” Mark understands. He looks over at Jack, who nods. With slightly flushed cheeks, Mark is catches that Jack was worried he’d take offence. He finds it amusing as his gaze returns back to the scenery before him.

 

“My parents and his parents and then their parents and then their parents and then their parents before them and so on have always ruled over his kingdom,” Mark says. “As far as I know, the kingdom has always looked like this. Always been this maze of corridors and areas.”

 

“But isn’t that hard to control?” Jack asks and Mark turns towards him again. This time, Jack doesn’t meet his gaze and just looks out into the maze. Out of the corner of his eye, Jack sees Mark chuckle slightly under his breath and smile.

 

“You have no idea,” Mark drops his head so it rests on his folded arms. “But that’s why I employ Nox to take care of enforcing the law upon the creatures of this land.” He sighs and closes his eyes. “I am the king of this land, but I am more of an overseer, not a direct monarch, of sorts. This land is wild and will always be. It’s easier to let the creatures do what they wish, unless it affects the majority of my citizens. That way I can prevent wars that are easily avoidable. My subjects are all so unique and require different things, so enforcing intense and particular law would-”

 

“I’m curious about all of that, don’t get me wrong,” Jack interrupts. Mark lifts his head with surprise. “But let’s cut to why I’ve been humoring you right now.”

 

“Alright,” Mark stands up fully.

 

“I have a few questions for you regarding other matters.” Spoken like a true and pissed prince, Jack folds his arms and stares at Mark. Mark sighs. He moves closer to Jack and stands only slightly taller than him. Jack glares at Mark, who awkwardly runs a hand through his hair and looks down at Jack.

 

Finally, “Why am I here?”

 

Mark opens his mouth to answer, but before he can get the words out, Jack is speaking again.

 

“Is this some sort of ‘arranged marriage’ thing?” Jack jumps to his main conclusion. “Did you just decide to fucking kidnap me and force me to come here so you could take over part of my kingdom in some forced marriage thing? Because I hate to break it to you, but I am the youngest prince, I basically have no control over my kingdom or quite frankly want control. So I’m so sorry, but this isn’t going to work in your favor so there is no point in this. I would appreciate if you would escort me out of here because I have more important matters to attend to in my own kingdom.

 

“I could never love someone who kidnaps me and puts me through what I have been through just to become my knight in shining armor and save me. I almost died several times out there! You could’ve lifted a finger to help me or to protect me, but oh no! You did nothing fucking whatsoever and just fucking watched. Yeah! I saw you in the fucking dark watching me a fuck ton. That’s really disturbing. Do you know how uncomfortable it is to be constantly under surveillance? To make matters fucking worse, I’m going through all these shit trials and fucking tribulations and you are sitting back and watching while eating a fucking goddamn snack!

 

“Even if I hadn’t been through this shit and you hadn’t been watching like some fucking creep, and just kidnapped me, I still wouldn’t willingly date you. I wouldn’t fucking love you even if it meant life and death because it’s unnatural and stupid and this entire thing you’ve done is fucking insane and stupid and why’d you ever think it would work! Are you really a fucking thick-headed ass that you seem to be or do you have your head shoved so far up your ass that you can’t care about anything else besides your dick or yourself?

 

“Another thing! Did you kidnap me because you simply wanted me in particular? As flattering as that is, but I’d rather fucking dive bomb off this roof than be with you. You sick mother fucker!”

 

Jack’s face is flushed a hot scarlet as he ends and holds his breath as he awaits Mark’s response. His eyes are widened in fear and anticipation. He is completely flustered and his hands are formed into fists at his side, ready to fight if Mark advances towards him.

 

Facing him, Mark just stares at Jack with a dumbfounded expression and his mouth agape. The surprise and hesitation that Mark displays cracks Jack’s confidence. His shoulders fall and his mood shifts with doubt. In a quiet voice, Jack rethinks his claim.

 

“Is it true?” Jack asks with a breath-like, hushed voice.

 

Mark takes a moment to close his jaw He shakes his head and his eyes dull with disappointment.

 

“Jack,” He says pinching the bridge of his nose, but his face cracks a smile through the disappointment. “Why the hell would you think that?” He lifts his head to look Jack in the eye. “That is the weirdest theory I have ever heard.”

 

Jack’s face reddens again and his defenses snap back on. Furiosity sparks, making his blue eyes crack with unpredictable electricity.

 

“But you were flirting with me!” Jack points out, literally pointing into Mark’s face. “You fucking flirted with me, why the fuck would you do that you fucking asshole, dickheaded piece of shit of a person?” Mark looks shocked and blinks down at Jack for a moment.

 

When the accusation settles, his face grows slightly hotter. Jack’s sure that he’s caught Mark off guard now, but the flush upon his cheeks settles. Mark’s lips curve into a flirtatious grin upon his face. Jack freezes up.

 

“It was only an attempt to get you to open up to me,” Mark smirks. He cups Jack’s face with one hand. “But I did succeed in seducing you, haven’t I?” 

 

Flustered and tongue-tied, Jack has no idea how to answer. And stands for a moment opening and closing his mouth like a fish gasping for air. He looks completely distressed, an entire backtrack from his aggressive furiosity a few moments earlier.

 

Mark looks more amused when he notices that he’s gained the upper hand. His seductive grin turns into one that’s more childish. 

 

“Boop.” He bops Jack on the nose and then backs up. Jack can’t figure out how to react and only stands there with confused, wide eyes.

 

“You thought you had the upper hand didn’t you?” Mark smirks. “Shouldn’t mess with the king.” He smiles as he makes an exaggerated shrug. Jack folds his arms uncomfortably, his face growing flushed again and nervous.

 

Upon seeing this, Mark’s face falls completely and he steps closer to Jack. He reaches a hand out and clears his throat. Jack looks in his direction.

 

“But in all seriousness,” Mark begins to say. He pauses before continuing, trying to find words. He clears his throat again. “I-Look Jack, my-no. Err…I don’t really know where to start if i’m being honest with you.” He looks down at his hand and then up at Jack.   
  


“I’d count this as the first time you have been,” Jack ignores Mark’s hand. Mark drops his hand, eyes narrowed more.

 

“Look Jack,” Mark begins with a bitter tone. He opens his mouth to continue, but Jack interrupts.

 

“Just tell me why I’m here,” Jack asserts. Mark’s mood darkens. Jack feels the darkness closing in around them, light being crushed. Jack notices that Mark is squeezing the orb in his hand and it’s cracking.

 

“What do you want?” Jack pushes back his better judgment against pressing Mark. He even moves closer to the fuming king. He tries to match the intensity of Mark’s gaze, trying to show that he isn’t intimidated when he feels like crying at this exact moment.

 

Mark only gazes at him with attitude. His hands, once closed in fists, unfurl. He aggressively pushes past Jack. He crouches onto the ground and lifts up the trapdoor by a brass handle. Jack watches, his hands folded across his chest in a defensive manner. Mark stands to his feet and with his back turned he speaks.

 

“All you need to know is that  **this** wasn’t  **my** idea, okay?” Without waiting for an answer, he leaves.

 

It takes Jack a moment to realize that if he wants answers, he has no choice but to follow Mark. So Jack rushes towards the trapdoor and slips down the stairs, stumbling a few times as he makes his way down. When he reaches the bottom, the hallway is dark.

 

Mark is nowhere to be seen.

 

“Fuck you,” Jack mutters under his breath before he makes his way back to his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha I hate uncomfortable conversations…wasn't this fun. Have fun with second hand embarrassment guys. (because i suffered through that while writing this)


	10. FUCK

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fuck. im sorry

This isn't me giving up on this story. If I'm going to start something, I  **will** finish it god damn it.

 

That said, I've had some issues recently (again wow): I just started school two weeks ago and I've had a lot of anxiety and a bit of depression sprinkled in there regarding classes and schedule. Then there's been my dad and family issues. I also just started much needed therapy so that I can deal with some shit that's been building up over the years.

 

I'm not saying this all to be like "oh feel bad for me please i need your concern gimme gimme!" *squeak squeak* no. I'm saying this because I want you to understand where I'm coming from when I say (and I know your anticipating this) another HIATUS! *booing*.

 

There are two reasons for this Hiatus:

1\. I need a fucking break. I haven't been able to do ANY work on this because of my fucking classes. I've decided to take two really hard, intense APs this year (english and US history). (For those of you who don't know, these are college level classes with intense tests at the end of the year in May). On top of that, I am taking advanced drama which means that I am in a musical that needs a ton of work and has practice like almost every day. Ugh…it's very annoying. It's a fine musical, just not super well known and I like the class, but there's…personal complications that are a bit private and something I need to work on.

2\. ANOTHER REASON IS: i want to re-write this. I really like the first few chapters, but after a while, it just drags on. I've planned 20 chapters, but only a few of them are actually eventful and interesting. I need to revise and revisit the plot in order to make this project something I'm truly proud of. I want to look back on this and be like, wow, I may not be into jack or mark that much anymore (or maybe I will who knows) but damn nice writing past me! Right now, I don't feel that way with recent chapters. I just…I just want to love my chapters again :( because i've hit a rut and it's so hard to be in this area. This is the exact reason I've never completed a book before or even a short story, because I get bored or unsatisfied with how its turning out. Who knew, writing's hard. (i did. i hope you do too)

 

That said, if you have any suggestions for little short stories you'd like me to write in the mean time (when I have time), I'd love to practice doing something before I launch into taking on this project again. I just need a vacation from worrying about this. Because this entire time that I haven't been paying attention to this work, I've felt bad because I know a lot of you really like this story. I still do! I just need to rework it some because it's not very good right now. :/

 

Anyway, just thought you guys had the right to now.

In conclusion: I'm hella stressed and possessed because of reassessed this piece of work. (wow rhyming is not my strong suit).

Now, most of you will see this notification and be like "fuck is she really putting this on hiatus…AGAIN???" Yeah. I'm so sorry, I wish it didn't have to be this way, but I can't apologize for wanting time off to redo this and to get ready for my junior year of high school (so that's right, gotta do SATs and ACTs and that stuff).

 

I wish you guys the best of luck and I will return to this. If I don't uphold that by the end of this year (2017), please come at me with pitchforks on my tumblr: quillsandspills Be as rude as you want because by then I need to get my ass up and finish this thing!

 

Chao! this is not goodbye forever and i will be on ao3 reading other people's stories :) feel free to suggest (doesn't have to be about mark or jack, can be about any other fandom, though i might not read a few if i'm not in said fandom).

Farewell my friends and have a nice rest of your day/night!


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